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leiswxrld · 2 months

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𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 (𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 ❥)

pairings: ellie!williams x fem!reader

sypnosis: it’s Valentine’s Day, a special day to spend with your loved ones right but what if a slasher is going around killing only once a year on this special day.

warnings: mdni 18+, smut, college slasher, anal fingering (r receiving), strap usage (r receiving), top ellie and bottom reader, face riding (r receiving), reader giving ellie a lap dance, weed and drugs, praises + degradation (mama, slut, baby, whore), ellie calls her strap her dick, strawberry vape supremacy, graphic content, college au

a/n: happy valentines my lovelies, I know this is a day late but I had to touch up a few things before I could post this and I’ve also been so busy yesterday so it had to wait till I got home, not proof read so there might be a few mistakes, low-key inspired by scream.

credits: @magicalboything @cafekitsune for line dividers ❥

'Good evening folks, this is Heather Gale reporting live from channel 5 with tonight’s news, it's that time of year where couples, friends and family around the world express their love and affection towards their loved ones but one striking question has our community in constant fear and paranoia, will the valentines day killer strike again ?'

'Today marks the death of late cheerleader captain Melissa brown who was found brutally stabbed over 20 times in the chest and stomach in her college dorm room a red rose left on her chest, police say she was returning from a party when she was viciously attacked by the killer, friends and family say she was a bright student, kind friend and positive role model for those who admired her, the community are desperately fighting to get Melissas killer found and behind bars.'

'Police ask that if you have any leads or tips that could potentially catch the Valentines Killer, they urge you to either report it to the police station or to anonymously send in your information, this is Heather Gale on channel 5 and I hope you all stay safe and well this Valentines.'

- -

"Really a valentines party" you reply in disbelief at the instagram post one of the boys from the football team had posted, you couldn't believe they were throwing a party when you were all advised not to throw any especially when the valentines killer could strike again.

"Yeah sick right I was thinking of going" your friend amarie says, scrolling onto the post and liking the picture. you throw her a dirty look, "amarie you know the college advised us not to attend any parties especially after what happened to heather she was killed straight after the party we went to last year" it felt so surreal when you found out she had been stabbed to death just after returning from the college party you attended that year, you remember being in your room when it came up on the news that starville's captain cheerleader was found dead.

"cmon y/n don't be such a whore, we'll all be together and we live in the same dorm room besides I'm pretty sure the killer only kills cheerleaders" she replies and you roll your eyes, "it's not just cheerleaders amarie it's anyone who goes to this fucking college, we're all at risk and were at a higher risk if we attend that stupid party"

amarie turns off her phone paying all her attention towards you, "think about it when was the last time you actually went to a party and got laid no offence but bitch I feel depressed just looking at you"

you cross your arms, "and what the fuck is that supposed to mean"

"it means I feel like I'm living with a christian.. your sex life is drier than a fucking desert" she remarks and you scoff, really.

"difference christians wait till marriage... reminder I have already lost my virginity" you remind her, the last time you really had sex was with a boy you hooked u with a few weeks back but you really didn't get the time to find someone and the only thing keeping you satisfied was your vibrator which was in dire need of some batteries.

"more of a reason for you to come to this party and get laid come on think about it, so many of the girls in our dorm are going we can't miss out on this opportunity besides I hear charlies going to be there" she replies, smiling to herself. Charlie was the star quarterback on the football team and one of the many boys she was frequently hooking up when she got the chance too.

"and that has something to do with me how" you reply and she shrugs her shoulders, "it means that there might be a chance you might meet someone you actually like" she replies, you ponder for a second..it could be a chance to finally hook up with someone.

"fine but I’m only going because I’m getting sick of using my vibrator plus there will be free drinks" you finally decide and she throws you a hella side eye, "girl tmi…” she says and you laugh, “now I need to go freshen up" she says, doing a little victory dance while looking at herself through her phone camera.

it was a good thing that the boys house was a 15 minute drive from your college building which meant you only spent around 5 dollars each for an Uber to get there. the house was the hotspot for most of the college parties that were thrown, a big estate with a pool and 3 floors meaning you could fit over a hundred people inside, "this thong is digging into my ass it feels like I've got carpet burn" amarie says, picking at the bright pink thong underneath her pink skirt.

You both choose to go all out, you in a red boob top and black skirt whilst amarie was wearing a pink corset top with a pink skirt. "I told you to choose the black one at the shop" you remark and she smacks her lips, "it wasn't going to match the cute pink corset top and skirt I've got so I guess I'm just going to have to suck it up" she replies, applying a thin layer of lip gloss on.

You both walk into the house, people stood near the entrance either drinking or getting smoking. you could see the inside of the house bathed in colourful lights, music blaring out into the cold midnight air.

Your strawberry flavoured vape clutched in your right hand as the stress began to creep in, your couldn't imagine that the valentine's killer could possibly strike again this year but the idea of it scared you shitless. You bring the vape to your lips inhaling the vapour as you taste the strawberry fumes enter your lungs, "I didn't expect for the party to be this fucking packed" you admit as amarie nods her head, "yeah seems like the whole campus" she pauses, "and a few other people from nearby attended"

you make it inside, pushing past your way through the sea of people making your way towards the kitchen, "You guys actually made it" Stacy another one of your friends says, going to hug you, "I mean I was expecting amarie but y/n that's a first" you give her a face that screams 'girl really' and she laughs, "no hard feelings babe but I never see your ass outside of your room except if you have class"

"none taken" you reply, manoeuvring around her so you could pour yourself a drink. you decide to do a classic vodka cranberry, basic but could easily get you drunk. "y/n pour some vodka in my cup" amarie says, holding the red solo cup towards you. you grab the bottle, pouring it until it hit the middle line, "girl quit playing pour me some more"

"You want to drink straight vodka"

"I'm trying to get shitfaced not drunk" she replies as if she was pointing out the obvious, you pour some more until it was nearly full. You down the vodka cranberry, putting down the bottle of vodka as you make your way onto the dance floor. the music blared through the speakers as you and your friends danced in the living room, grinding against amarie as she used her free hand to smack your ass.

You felt the unwanted and lustful eyes from every boy in room, ignoring them as you continued to grind against her taking a swig of your drink. Your eyes wandered for a second until they landed on a girl just poarched up against the banister of the stairs, talking to boy you recognised to be Charlie.

You'd fancied girls in the past but never took it further than just straight crushing but she was different, you don't think you'd ever seen her before on campus otherwise you wouldn't forget such a beautiful face. The mysterious brunette was dressed in a white wife beater, blue baggy jeans with a pair of retro red jordan's, the girl takes her eyes off of Charlie to look at you for a second, licking her lips before looking you up and down, not missing the long stare on your half exposed ass.

She had a blunt in her hand, taking a few drags from it before taking her attention off of you. You stop grinding and turn around to face amarie who's looking at your confused, "bitch why did you stop"

"who's that girl over there" you say discreetly pointing in direction of the staircase, "what girl" she replies, squinting her eyes to get a better look.

"that one with the tattoos going all up her arms" she looks once again before grinning, "ohhh that girl"

"that's ellie I only know her cause she normally sells weed to Charlie when we’re together I forgot how fucking fine she was" she adds taking a swig of her vodka, "shit I need another drink I'll be back"

amarie makes her way to the kitchen leaving you with a few of your other friends who were busy dancing on each other, thinking about it now you needed another drink.

You noticed that Ellie had moved to the couch some girl chatting her up as she seemed to not be listening, blunt in hand. she notices you right away, eyes lowered a fraction and manspreading with one leg propped up on the couch. a surge of confidence ran through you as you decide to go sit yourself next to her, she licks her lips turning to face you.

"why'd you stop dancing" she starts, offering the blunt to you as you happily accept it. you laugh, "what did you like my dancing" you reply, taking a drag before handing it back to her.

"I mean I liked what I was seeing" she admits boldly, making you shuffle nervously under her intimidating gaze, "if you'd like I could give you a lap dance" you offer and she raises a brow.

"you want to give someone you just met a lap dance huh" yes and no but this was the alcohol talking.

"yeah if you want I know a few things" you state and she thinks about it for a sec before standing up, "ok follow me doll" you blush at the nickname, taking ellies hand as she leads you upstairs, you look at amarie who's still in the kitchen pressed against the counter as she made out with Charlie, her hands wrapped around his neck as his were around her waist, typical amarie.

you passed so many people, a group of people doing drugs on the floor and the others doing dares on eachother on the other side of the room. her grip on your hand tightened, trying to avoid stepping on the people sat on the stairs to prevent yourself falling. there were many occupied rooms passing through all of them till you found a vacant one, ellie allowing you to go in first closing the door behind you.

the rooms quite big, a double bed with a lamp on each side with little side tables and a vanity behind you with picture frames on top, "you nervous" she asks almost taunting, sitting on the edge of the bed. the new found confidence from earlier was replaced with anxiety as it began to seep in, you've only jokingly given your friend a lap dance but that was only because you were dared to do it but that was out of the question now since you were sobering up and doing it for real.

"yeah" you admit and she chuckles, "don't worry I won't judge beside who's going to complain when they've got a pretty girl grinding on their lap" she grins and you roll your eyes with a smile as you remove your shoes.

the tension in the room was thick, Ellie's hands pressed against the sheets, the overbearing loud music coming from downstairs giving you a headache and the sounds of moans emitting from the other side of the walls, "remember no touching me this is just a dance" you emphasise, going to straddle her lap.

"I got you" she says, keeping her hands to her sides. you start by whining your hips against her lap, hands slowly brushing over her thighs feeling her tense up beneath you. you twisted around, moving to rhythm of the music each movement against her lap making you feel the unsuspected bulge tucked underneath her jeans.

she knows you felt it, fighting the urge to just scrap the lap dance and touch you, the friction against her strap rubbing up against her aching clit, pussy wet just watching you. she instinctively swallowed as your grinding increased, practically fucking her with clothes on, your red laced panties soaked in your own arousal, biting back the urge to moan.

Ellie mumbles in cohesively, her voice low and hoarse as you lift up off of her, seductively moving your hips towards the floor whilst your skirt rode up your ass, exposing the red lace that sat perfectly around your waist. you turn back around, the dim light in the room showing Ellie's eyes that had now darken in colour, her fists locked up tight that they turned red.

You kiss your way up her clothed body, seating yourself back onto her lap as you continued till you reached her neck, leaving love bites all over until you reached her cherry red lips, hovering over them before teasingly backing away, "I know you feel it.... pull it out" her voice low, looking up at you.

"feel what" you innocently tease, gasping when she grips onto your hips, "h-hey I said no touching"

"don't act smart with me...pull.it.out" she tells you and you give her a hesitant look, "what you never seen a dick before"

"no dumbass I have but I've just never done it with a girl" you shamefully admit and she just laughs, "I guess I'll be your first" her hands wrap around your back so that your laying on top of her and gently wraps her hand around the back of your neck, pulling you into a kiss.

her lips were addicting, not like the many boys you've hooked up with who just kissed for the sake of it but she took her time with you, it's almost like having sex but with her mouth allowing her to slip her tongue into your mouth as you moan, your hand going under her top rubbing up and down her stomach.

she pulls away, helping you remove her belt, quickly pulling her jeans down showing the very prominent bulge through her black calvin klein boxers "before you sit on it, I want you to fuck my face with your pussy" your face heats up at her words, embarrassment flooding through your body leaving your clit throbbing.

"you want me sit on your face" you ask almost astonished, "yes is that a problem?" she questions, "well no-

"then sit this pussy on my fucking face" she interrupts and you quickly follow, removing your black skirt and red lace before throwing them into a random corner of the room. you slowly, hover your cunt over her face scared that you might accidentally suffocate her.

she slaps your ass, "lower yourself down more" she growls, gripping your legs and pulling you onto her mouth. you slowly rock your hips against her mouth, ellie pressing her tongue against your clit, flicking her tongue up and down your vulva making your legs tremble, a whimper leaving your glossed lips.

Ellie’s sucking and biting, her nails digging into the fat of your thighs, your juices mixing in with her saliva that dripped down her chin. Your legs shake and ellie gets more faster, your head fuzzy with the overwhelming pleasure you were receiving, you felt like screaming covering your mouth with your hand, muffling your moans.

You never imagined you'd be getting head by girl at a college party whilst there were hundreds of people downstairs, the thought of it made you even wetter and you were fucking thankful you decided to come.

you finally come with a silent scream, gripping onto the headboard as she continued to go down on you until she was done, adding onto the best fucking head that you had gotten in ages. she taps your thigh, allowing you to raise up off of her face, your face heating up at ellie's wet face.

"you taste so good mama" she says, licking her lips and sitting up on the bed. she cracks her neck, giving you a kiss allowing you to taste yourself. "but I'm not done with you" she says, slapping your inner thigh.

"I want you to get on your knees and suck this dick baby" she moves her self to the edge of the bed, giving you room to get on your knees. you follow, getting in between her legs, she opens your mouth with her fingers and slips them inside until they were coated in your saliva before using them as lubricant to stroke herself, tapping the tip against your wet lips.

"say ahh..." you slightly open your mouth allowing her to slip her dick into your mouth, it's been a while since you've last given head, slowly bobbing your head up and down her length, she's just watching you using her fingers to tilt your head up so that you could make eye contact with her, her hands grip onto the back of your messy hair, helping you to go down on her faster your eyes filling up with tears, trying to open up your throat more so that you wouldn't gag.

"fuck..." she whispers, fumbling with something on the bed before pulling out her phone. your pace doesn't falter, watching as she presses the record button, the flash brightening up the dim room. you moan, trying so hard not to choke as you sloppily bob your head up and down faster, eye contact not ceasing.

you felt ashamed yet turned on at the same time at being recorded, ellie stroking your hair back to prevent it from falling into your face. your surprised you had been going on for this long, feeling the evident tiredness in your jaw, drool seeping from your mouth and lubricating her dick. she stops you, slowly pushing you off her, allowing you to catch your breath.

"I love watching you suck my dick baby but I wanna see how well you can take it" she admits, camera still recording. "get on all fours mama" she says standing up as you get up from your knees. she waits for you to get on all fours, arching your back as she climbs onto the bed behind you phone in hand, positioning herself.

she spreads your ass, spitting onto your gaping hole allowing it to drip down over as she uses her thumb to rub it in before prodding her tip against your glistening cunt, slowing pushing herself into you. you gasp, your mouth widening into an 'o', the feeling of her dick stretching you out, but before she could even move there's a sudden knock on the door.

"Room is occupied" Ellie yells, awaiting for the person behind the door to move along but the person on the other side doesn't go, knocking once again, "I said the room is occupied asshole go and fuck some place else" the person on the other side get's the message, walking away from the door.

"some fucking people" ellie whispers to you which makes you giggle. she starts to rock her hips into you, putting the palm of her hand against your back helping you to fuck back onto her. she fucked into you so lovingly but so fucking rough, hitting your g-spot that had you gasping and cursing, biting on your lip and your hand going to grip onto the sheets, "shit"

Ellie doesn't stop recording, one hand gripping onto your hips whilst thrusting into you, cursing at the way your ass moved against her hips. you turn around to look at her, her hair falling into her face as ellie looked back at you. she looked so fucking sexy in just her wife beater, showcasing all the different tattoos she had to offer... you don't think you've ever been this fucking whipped for someone with the way she had you acting.

"you should see how fucking perfect you look on camera...should turn your slutty ass into a fucking pornstar shit" you moan in response to her words, fucking yourself back onto her. your pants get louder, the squelching noises from your gushing cunt getting louder every time ellie pulled back, she slaps your ass watching how it jiggled under the camera light. "fuck.....elsss"

your cheeks were flushed and your forehead was lined with sweat, feeling ellie get deeper every time she pulled you back onto her, receiving cute and desperate moans from your lips as your tits bounce with every rough drag of her hips.

You practically trying to pull away, begging ellie to let you come as she pounded you into the bed, her thumb pressing against your labia, rubbing against it.

You gasp again, feeling her finger slowly slip into your exposed hole the uncomfortable feeling making you clench around her fingers, she curls her fingers almost doing a ‘come here’ motion, whispering for you to relax so that it wouldn’t feel as painful, she gradually builds her speed making you feel lightheaded, this new fucking feeling making you dizzy.

"so fucking tight" she fists her fingers into you, the rings around your walls clenching around her skinny fingers whilst pounding into you as your eyes rolled shut.

You start to spasm around her strap before you know it your creaming around her dick, your climax riding out as she continued to milk you, her pace never faltering, “f-fuck stop els it’s too much”

“be a good little whore and cum for me again” that alone sends you over the edge and your cumming again, not believing you could even come more than twice as she lazily gives you a few more thrusts before pulling out her dick coated in your sweet juices, leaving you sprawled out on the bed, allowing you to catch your breath.

you could hear your heart beating out of your ears, laying there slumped on the bed before ellie stopped the recording. you remain motionless, trying to catch your breath as ellie helped you up from the bed. You both messily get dressed in silence, your back turned as you applied your strawberry lipgloss that had smeared off before a notification on ellie's phone catches her attention, "I-uh gotta go- something I've got to take care off, I guess I’ll see you around y/n" she says, quickly buckling up her belt and stepping into her shoes.

she gives you one last kiss on the lips, savouring the sweet taste from your scented lipgloss before disappearing into the hallway. you look for the red lace underwear that you had thrown into the corner of the room earlier but it was nowhere to be found, you curse yourself deciding to wrap a jumper you found in the closet around your waist to prevent flashing anyone, before swiftly leaving the room.

you make your way downstairs, people screaming and left in a state of disarray , how did you not hear this before……did you miss something ?

a frantic amarie rushes to you, "where were you we were looking for you" she yells, bringing you into a death-crushing hug leaving you confused. "I-i was in the bathroom why what happened" you inquire, pulling away.

"the killer striked again, charlies dead"

#ellie williams x female reader #valentines day #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie the last of us #lesbian smut #lesbian #tlou2 #ellie x reader #horror au #ellie tlou #ellie williams #black reader #smut #leiswxrld #leiscoven

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godslino · 3 months

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PIECE BY PIECE | minho first date series. friends to lovers.

pairing: minho x fem!reader word count: 6.2k genre: college au, mutual pining, fluff, angst warnings: drinking, referenced injury (very minor) summary: minho, on a drunken whim, asks you out on a date.

a/n: finally!! the minho part!! i’ve been sooo excited about this one since i first got the idea. i hope you guys enjoy! once again any and all feedback is appreciated, happy reading <3

“Dude, I think it’s clean.”

Minho looks up from where he’s scrubbing the counter, eyes narrowed. So what if it’s his third time going over every surface in the kitchen?

“Are you going to help me or are you just gonna sit there and make more crumbs?”

Jeongin’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline. He holds up his hands in surrender, the bag of chips in his lap crinkling. “I’m just saying. You’re acting like she’s never seen the place before.”

That’s the problem. You’ve seen his place. Minho has to stop the shudder that threatens to overtake his body at the thought.

“So you’re not helping? Great. Get out.”

“I live here!” Jeongin whines. “Why do I have to get out? You can’t banish me like this.”

“I can and I will. Now leave. I have two hours to make sure everything is ready and I am not going to vacuum for a fourth time.”

“Yes mom,” Jeongin rolls his eyes as he unfolds his legs from underneath him.

He stops just short of the kitchen counter, points an accusatory finger at Minho’s disheveled figure still hunched over an imaginary stain.

“For the record, Chan hyung would never do this to me. He loves my crumbs.”

Minho throws the scrub daddy at him.

🏠

The night it happens, all it takes is approximately three shots and a pep talk from Hyunjin for Minho to finally find the nerve to ask you out.

“You’ve got this,” the younger boy says, words slurred, his hands steady on both Minho’s shoulders. The bass thumps loud in the other room, drowned out by the walls of the kitchen until it’s nothing but garbled nonsense going in one of his ears and out the other, vibrations low in his chest.

“I’ve got this.” Minho repeats, the thrum of alcohol already spreading to his fingertips. He feels warm, light on his feet. His limbs are starting to loosen up and his insides are turning to jelly. He might even be floating.

“You look hot.”

“I look hot.”

“She’s gonna say yes.”

“You’re gonna venmo me twenty dollars.”

“I’m gonna venmo you twenty dollars.” Minho parrots before he can even process what he’s saying. Changbin, who’d been watching the entire thing unfold from where he stands with his back pressed against the sink, snorts.

“Wait, what the f—”

“Go get her!” Hyunjin screams, pushing him through the door of the kitchen with one last pat on the back, “And send me my money!”

Minho stumbles over himself, just barely able to stop in time before he goes crashing into a group of people. The living room is crowded: there’s furniture pushed up against the walls, bodies pressed front to back in the middle of the floor, a makeshift DJ stand in the corner where Chan is controlling the music from his laptop, drink in hand. Minho catches his eye from across the room, the glow of the LEDs reflecting off the toothy grin he shoots his way, dimples on full display.

“Hey!” Minho feels someone grab his arm, and he turns to find you staring up at him. “Where’d you go? You said you were gonna get a drink.”

Minho follows your eyes down to where you’re staring at his empty hands. “I—uh, well. I ran into Hyunjin and we took a few shots.”

The pout you give him does nothing but spur on the fluttering of his chest, his brain still hyper aware of the way your hand was resting on his elbow. “Shots? I want shots!” you whine, and Minho has to avert his gaze from staring at your lips when your pout only worsens.

“How much have you had?” he tries to ask over the music. There’s a shitty pop song playing, high pitched and wonky. If he remembers in the morning, he’ll make sure he berates Chan about his DJ-ing abilities.

“What?” you scream back, tiptoeing to bring your mouth closer to his ear.

Minho is only a man. A man who's been in love with you since the moment you accidentally spilled your coffee all over Hyunjin in the quad during freshman year. He remembers that day well, remembers the way your eyes went wide and your lips parted. He also remembers the way he wished it was him with the large wet stain on his shirt, that way it was him that was offered to have his lunch bought as an apology.

He’d never admit it, but sometimes really late at night, when the moon is high in the sky and he’s feeling oddly sentimental, he counts his lucky stars that Hyunjin had been in a relationship at the time. Minho doesn’t know what he would’ve done had he been forced to watch the two of you hit it off—some form of arson, presumably. Anything to take the edge off. But because of the fact that Hyunjin was not trying to have his head cut off by said girlfriend at the time, he invited Minho along as some sort of collateral damage. That’s when the two of you became friends. Kind of perfect if you ask him.

With the jumbled mess of butterflies in his stomach that he gets whenever you’re near him, and the threat of the alcohol slowly seeping through his skin, his brain short circuits the minute your breath grazes the shell of his ear. When your hand follows not long after, fingers gripping the nape of his neck to hold him in place, he almost passes out.

“Min? What’d you say?”

Minho is rendered completely useless by you. Absolutely ruined. Your existence has thrown his entire plan to woo you off course and now his mouth is opening and closing like a badly programmed robot. Pathetic. Nuts and bolts for brains.

By the grace of God (or some other higher being that Minho’s never bothered to believe in until this very moment) he finds his voice, but not before you’re pulling back with a confused look on your face.

“I asked how much you’ve had to drink,” he says, straining against the music.

A saccharine sweet grin that has him seeing stars spreads across your face, “Not enough!”

Minho is not an enabler. Never has been, never will be. There was one time, back in that fateful freshman year that also introduced the two of you, that he let Hyunjin get blackout drunk. A terrible decision on his end, if the earful he got from Chan the next morning was anything to go by. And as if that wasn’t enough, he was finding remnants of the resulting hacking session for the following week. So yeah, never again.

But while Minho isn’t an enabler, he is smitten, and the way your hand feels wrapped around his wrist as you drag him into the kitchen has his soul threatening to leave his body. He thinks that maybe he could do anything as long as you asked. He also hopes you can’t feel the way his pulse is rabbiting beneath his skin, right under the press of your thumb.

“There’s, like, nothing here.” you say as you rummage through the cupboard near the window, nose scrunched and a frown on your face.

Minho laughs, rounds the kitchen island to crouch down and open the cabinet under the sink. “That’s because you don’t know where to look,” he smirks, pulling out a fresh bottle of tequila. “Also, Chan hyung is greedy. He knows people like you will go scavenging his supply if he isn’t careful.”

“I resent that.” you frown, taking the bottle from him. “Besides, people like me deserve to have fun too.”

“Mhm, sure.” Minho says, grabbing a solo cup. He holds his hand out for the bottle, pours just the right amount before sliding it over and following it up with a can of coke.

“A man after my heart.” you joke, holding your cup up to him in a mock toast before downing it in one go. Minho watches with so much focus, fighting against the way his head spins. He doesn’t even know if it’s the alcohol anymore, it might just be the effect you have on him. Dizzying—you flip his entire world on its axis in the best way possible.

Minho’s gonna be seeing your exposed neck in his dreams later, he’s sure of it—it’s branded into his memory.

“That…is so fucking bad.” you giggle, holding your cup out. “Another one.”

Minho clicks his tongue. “I don’t know…”

“Pleaseeee Min,” the lilt in your voice sounds oddly familiar. Minho holds his breath just in case you—yup. There it is. There goes that pout again.

It’d be so easy for him to lean down and kiss it right off your lips. He could blame it on the alcohol, maybe, but then that takes away from how he actually means it.

He sighs instead. “It’s gonna cost you.”

“An arm and a leg?”

“What? No—I meant some water.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Three shots and a full bottle of water later, Minho knows you’ve hit your limit. Cheeks flushed pink, a dopey grin on your face, pupils blown wide. Even in this state, Minho is certain that you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“Anotherrrr,” you slur, waving your cup in his face.

Minho shakes his head. “No can do. You’re cut off.”

“Please,” you whine, placing both hands on his shoulders, “I’ll do anything.”

Minho, completely taken back by the sudden closeness of your body to his, freezes.

“Anything?” he asks before he can stop himself.

This is stupid. You’re drunk. There’s no way you’re going to remember anything in the morning, much less within the next thirty minutes. He’s pretty sure that you’ll lose control of all your senses soon, which is why he’s already texted your roommate Jiwoo to unlock the door so he can carry you inside. Nothing he hasn’t done before.

“Anything,” you repeat, eyes going cross-eyed where they’re fixing on the mole he has at the tip of his nose.

This is stupid. But then again, so is Minho. A big, stupid fool that blames everything on the fact that he’s so in love with you it hurts. This might be the only chance he gets to shoot his shot.

Minho takes a deep breath, says something similar to a little prayer that’s more like Hey, if anyone’s listening, help a guy out, and hopes that the twenty bucks he sent Hyunjin works.

“Go on a date with me.” he says slowly, wincing when your eyes snap up to meet his gaze.

Well, there’s really no going back from that. The only thing that could possibly grant him redemption now is banking on the fact that you don’t remember anything in the morning.

Minho waits with bated breaths, watches as your eyes search his for a long while. He waits for the anger, the disgust, the visible repulsion that he starts to think might happen the longer the silence continues.

He’s about to backtrack, quickly conjuring up an excuse about how Oh, haha, gotcha! when your hands suddenly drop from his shoulders. You grab the cup, your chin tipped upwards, and hold it out for him to fill.

“Okay.”

“O…kay?”

“Yeah. Okay. Pour me another one.”

The next morning, when Minho all but drags himself into the kitchen in search of water and something to soothe the throbbing in his head, he nearly spits a mouthful at Jeongin, the poor guy too busy eating his cereal to realize he’s gotten a front row seat in the splash zone.

Y/N [10:34am]

when do you want to do that date?

🏠

Are candles too much?

Minho has options: clean linen, lavender breeze, ocean mist, warm vanilla. He really just needs something to get rid of the smell of cleaning spray.

He thought that having a night in for a first date would be ideal—less pressure, no unwanted attention, a bathroom that he can run into when he starts to hyperventilate if you smile at him for too long. But now that it’s happening, he’s convinced that every surface of his and Jeongin’s shared apartment will scare you away if anything so much as looks off-putting.

Minho is, to put it simply, freaking out. All the other times you’ve been over to his place were on a completely platonic level. Movie nights with all the other guys in tow, dropping off food that you felt generous enough to buy every once in a while, one time because you’d accidentally worn Minho’s jacket home from a party and needed to return it to him.

But this is different. This is a date. Minho’s not dreaming—he already pinched himself a dozen times in the bathroom mirror, tiny red marks on the inside of his forearm to prove it. He’s going to open the door, invite you in, cook for you, and then proceed to resist the urge to tell you how beautiful you are for however long the night continues on after that. He can practically hear Jeongin’s laugh in the back of his head, sneering at how pathetic his inner monologue sounds right now.

He needs to find another stain to scrub.

By the time you’re knocking on his door, Minho has changed his outfit seven times. Sweats were too casual, a button up was too fancy. Should he not have done his hair? No, that’s just lazy, the way his fringe is swept up and out of his forehead adds a nice touch that doesn’t scream Hey! I’m trying to woo you! You’ve never been the type to be impressed by grand gestures and shows of confidence anyways, he knows that well.

One time, when a guy from one of the frat houses hired the campus quartet to sing a song for you in the quad as he stood there with big beady eyes and a bouquet of roses in his hand, you’d all but ran from the scene, Minho following close behind as you called out to him over your shoulder. It’s one of his fondest memories. As soon as the two of you made it around the back of the science building, you’d doubled over in laughter, the both of you in disbelief at what had happened. Minho has had that information tucked into the deepest parts of his brain ever since, saved just in case he needed it.

(Later that night, in the safety of his own bed, he’d laughed maniacally at the situation. Something about watching you reject another guy filled him with a sense of joy he couldn’t explain. He just hoped he was never going to be on the receiving end of it.)

He does a quick once over of the kitchen: double checks that all the ingredients are out, blows a speck of dust off the glass stovetop, spins the tiny floral arrangement he bought so that it’s sitting at just the right angle. When the doorbell rings, the chime bouncing off the walls of the apartment, he visibly pales.

He has to reel it in, to remember that it’s just you. You might not even be here with any intentions other than to fulfill your end of the deal; one date in exchange for the extra three shots he poured you the other night. Minho takes a deep breath, grips the doorknob with conviction, and decides that he’s determined to show you the way you deserve to be treated. The opportunity is there, and he’s gonna take it.

As soon as the door swings open, every nerve that had somehow crept its way into his brain disappears, the sight of you standing on the other side immediately sending the anxiety scrambling and replacing it with fondness instead.

“Hi,” you smile, and Minho sees images of you coming home to his apartment flash across his mind. After class, after work, in the winter when it’s cold and your nose is tinted pink, on rainy days where the ends of your hair are damp and you have a wet umbrella in tow. He could get used to it. He’s so in love that it hurts.

“Hey,” he breathes out, stepping aside to make way for you, “Come in. Are you hungry?”

“Starving, actually. Been saving myself all day since I don’t always get to have your cooking.” You hop on to one of the stools, your attention momentarily stolen by the flower arrangement. One point for Minho.

I’d cook for you every day, he wants to say. But that’s weird, right? So instead, “Well then I guess today is your lucky day.”

“Yeah, I guess it is.” You say softly.

Minho can’t see you with the way his back is turned, hands moving to grab out the knife and cutting board, but if he could he’d see the way your eyes are staring softly at his back, the ghost of a smile on your lips.

Conversation flows easily after that, despite Minho’s original worries about it being awkward. You’re not necessarily treating it as a date, and he isn’t really either. It feels more like a glorified hangout, just the two of you spending time together with the added glances and smiles that normally wouldn’t be there.

Minho finds it easy to get lost in you. He finds himself craving to know more about your day, about the things that’ve been on your mind lately and the hobbies you’ve picked up. Most of the conversation is a continuation of stuff that’s fallen through the cracks during the times you see each other, but he doesn’t miss the way you ask about him too, your eyes shining with genuine interest. It makes his heart slam against his ribcage.

“How are your cats doing?”

Minho looks up from the cutting board, follows your gaze to where it’s fixed on the scattered pictures that litter his fridge. “They’re good,” he says, smiling down at a head of garlic, “My mom sends pictures all the time. She says they claw at the door to my room when they miss me.” He smashes the garlic under the knife’s blade by hitting it with the heel of his palm. “It’s cute.”

“You’re cute.”

Minho, in a very flashy demonstration of what it means to be cool, calm, and collected, slices his thumb mid-chop.

“Shit.” he mutters, dropping the knife.

It’s not that bad, just a little nick, the surprise was mostly what scared him. He probably doesn’t even need a bandaid. But despite how small it is, nothing stops you from hurriedly walking up to him and taking his hand in yours, his thumb held closely to your face for inspection.

“Are you okay?” You turn his hand over between your fingers, the soft pads of them against his calloused ones. Minho is dumbfounded, struggling to find the words to say.

“Yeah—um, it’s fine. My fault. I was distracted.” He stammers out, pulling his hand back and holding it up. He wiggles his fingers, making a show of bending and twisting his thumb that, at most, has just a small cut on the side. “See? Perfect.”

Your face relaxes, and then you’re laughing. Why are you laughing? Either Minho looks like a complete idiot or he’s suddenly the funniest person in the world for being clumsy and reckless and almost ruining the night by losing a finger. Whichever one it is, he doesn’t care, as long as he gets to hear that sound again.

“Let me help cook, please? I know you said you would do it all but clearly you’re a threat to the integrity of this meal.” You say, bumping your hip against his to move him away from the cutting board.

Minho scoffs. “I wouldn’t have done that if you didn’t catch me off guard.”

“So what? You admit that I make you flustered?”

Oh.

Minho wasn’t prepared for this. He wasn’t prepared for the—the flirting that’s clearly happening. You’re flirting with him, right? Why else would you have called him cute or given him that suspicious side eye after you asked that question?

You and Minho have joked around like this before, but it was always empty with no real feelings attached—as far as he could tell. You’re a naturally friendly person, getting along with others comes easy to you. He’s seen the way you talk to the other guys and has always just assumed he was no different in your eyes than they were. Sure, there were moments where maybe your hand lingered on his arm for a little while after he made you laugh, or the two of you would steal glances across the room. Sometimes when Hyunjin said something stupid you’d both catch the other’s eye and make a face, just another funny way of proving that you were both on the same wavelength most of the time. It’s kind of why Minho is so taken with you—he’s never met anyone that gets him the same way.

Reluctantly, Minho puts his pride aside and allows you to help. And as it turns out, you’re actually really good at cooking. Minho doesn’t have to instruct you much, and before he knows it you’re both working like a well-oiled machine, scooting past one another as you switch places between the stove and the sink, reading each other’s minds without even having to ask.

“Taste this.” You say, holding the spoon up to his mouth. Minho leans forward, front teeth poking out, and brings the spoon into his mouth. You cup your hand under his chin to catch any droppings, watching in anticipation as he smacks his lips together.

His eyes light up, big and brown and twinkling under the light of the kitchen. “Perfect.” He smiles.

“Oh you have—uh,” you stop him with a hand on his forearm just as he’s about to turn back to the sink, your other hand hovering next to his face hesitantly, “It’s just, um, your—here.”

Minho’s eyes go wide when your thumb swipes against the corner of his mouth, your touch feather light. It’s so intimate, the only sound being the music playing low from the speaker on the counter. He’s half convinced that you’re able to hear his heartbeat, blood pumping loud in his ears.

“You had some sauce…on your face.” You say shyly, your palm still pressed to his cheek.

“…Oh.”

Minho’s never really looked into your eyes from this close up before. He’s always known they were beautiful, the shape of them soft, full of nothing but the world. He can see himself in them from here, and, selfishly, he hopes you can see yourself in his, too.

He might be imagining it when your gaze flicks down to his lips for just a fraction of a second, but there’s no time to unpack any of that when the sauce starts bubbling over the edge of the pot, spilling on to the burner as loud sizzling and smoke fills the kitchen.

It’s chaos. The bottom of the pot is burnt and there’s only so much of it that’s salvageable. He only bought the exact amount of ingredients too, because this is a self-proclaimed no-food-waste household (as explicitly stated in the napkin contract he has with Jeongin, much to his dismay). So, hooray for conscious consumption of goods!

At the end of it all, there’s no one to blame. You’re both guilty of…whatever that was.

Minho tries to reassure you that it’s okay as he dials the number for the pizza place just down the street, simultaneously shutting down all your attempts to pay as an apology. It doesn’t matter to him, he’d do anything as long as it means he gets to spend time with you. At the end of the day, it’s another memory that he’ll hold close to his heart.

“Listen,” you say, swallowing down a mouthful of pizza, the both of you seated on his couch with a half-eaten box of pizza open on the coffee table, “I know you wanted to cook and all—which, by the way, I’m still sorry—but this is so good. However I’m sure whatever you made would’ve been better.”

Minho chuckles. “Stop lying,” he wipes his hands on a napkin, “I can guarantee you that whatever I cooked wouldn’t be as good as this anyways.”

“Stop selling yourself short, Min. You’re good at everything you do.”

The words fall from your lips so easily, like it’s something you’ve convinced yourself of long ago. Minho’s never been the type to bounce around from one thing to another, always choosing to stick with it until he has it down to a science. Cooking is one of them. Jeongin can attest to all the times Minho has berated him with tasting his latest dishes, chasing him around the apartment with a spoon. The words tighten themselves around his heart.

“I’m not,” he rolls his eyes, “But nine times out of ten, grease and mozzarella cheese are gonna win. I know that for a fact.”

You laugh, and the conversation gradually diverts into a debate about the top ten best greasy foods in existence. You’re heated, half kneeling on the couch with a finger pointed at him as you plead your case for onion rings, when your eyes go past Minho’s head and settle on the shelf of games in the hallway.

“You have games?” you ask, suddenly giddy with excitement as you hurry over to inspect the selection.

Minho watches with fond eyes, collects the plates and napkins to throw away. “Yeah, most of them are Innie’s. We don’t really use them. Sometimes when we’re drunk, other times when we’re bored and decide to wager money for fun.”

You hum, not really paying attention. Monopoly, Chutes and Ladders, some decks of cards, Uno—you scan the shelf until your eyes light up at what you find hidden at the bottom.

“Min! Can we play Jenga?”

“Jenga?” Minho asks, re-entering the living room. The coffee table is clear now, and he sits between it and the couch, his back against the cushion. “Isn’t that kind of boring? We have other stuff there.”

“It’s only boring if you play it the way it’s supposed to be played.” You roll your eyes. Minho turns to you when you situate yourself on the floor beside him and only momentarily contemplates running to the bathroom when your knee knocks against his. He’s been holding it together pretty well so far, however The Sauce Incident had him ready to book it if anything had gone further.

“Well how else are we supposed to play it?” He frowns.

“We make up our own rules.”

The pieces scatter across the wood of the coffee table, clacking as you diligently begin putting them together. “This is a date, right?” You ask, stopping for a moment to turn and assess his response.

Minho stills. He genuinely forgot the grounds on which tonight had even happened in the first place. Spending time with you makes him forget everything else. And, despite his fears in the beginning, being on a date with you has felt so natural that it almost seems like you’ve done it a thousand times before.

Your eyes meet. For a moment, Minho lets himself wonder what it’d be like if he went for it right then and there. “Yeah,” he says slowly, unblinking, hoping you can see the sincerity on his face, “A date. One of the best ones I’ve ever been on, actually.”

He almost cries out in victory when your face flushes pink. “Now who’s a liar?” You ask quietly, going back to piecing together the game.

Minho has learned something new tonight: he really likes seeing you flustered.

“Why do you ask?” he decides to cut you the slack, “Or what does this being a date have to do with Jenga rules?”

He waits as you finish the stack, your tongue sticking out in concentration. You’re so cute. Minho mentally pockets that image for safe keeping.

“Sorry, okay, it’s done. But basically, if we pull out a block, we get to ask the other person a question.”

“And if the tower falls…?”

“Hmm,” you think for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip, “Oh! I know. If you lose you have to tell me why you asked me on a date.”

Minho’s stomach flips. “Okay. If you lose you have to tell me why you accepted the date.”

Something unreadable passes over your face, but it’s gone in an instant. You hold your hand out for a shake, and Minho wraps his fingers around it gently.

“Deal.”

“Why are you taking all of the middle pieces?” Minho pouts.

The two of you have gone through a couple turns by now, throwing out random questions for the better half of fifteen minutes. Favorite colors, childhood foods you wouldn’t eat, the best memory you have from high school. Minho’s learned a lot, has fallen for you a lot more. But that was always a given. It’s impossible not to when he can feel the warmth from your body where you’re seated next to him, your presence overtaking all of his senses.

“Because I’m trying to win,” you laugh, putting your freshly pulled piece at the top. Just a little crooked, too. To piss him off. “Favorite movie?”

“Ponyo. Easy. My turn.”

“Seriously? Why Ponyo?”

“One question at a time, princess.”

He means it as a joke, really. He doesn’t even realize what he’s said until after the fact, the nickname making your heart skip a beat. Minho notices, the corners of his lips tugging downwards as he suppresses a smile. He manages to flick one of the side pieces until it gives way.

“What’s one thing you regret?”

“Ooh, getting deep I see.” You laugh, taking a sip of your soda. There’s a long pause, and then, “I regret spilling my coffee on Hyunjin that day.”

Minho’s brow furrows. You…regret it? He runs through all the possible reasons in his head. Surely it can’t be because you regret becoming friends with them, friends with him, right?

“Why?” He chances.

“One question at a time, princess.” You echo, laughing at his shocked expression.

You remove the last middle piece. “On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate our first date?”

Minho’s brain is going a thousand miles a minute. “A ten. Wouldn’t trade it for the world.” He says it fast, wastes no time in moving forward to remove his own piece. He doesn’t even notice that your cheeks have gone pink again, too busy itching to ask his next question.

“Why do you regret spilling your coffee on Hyunjin?”

Minho watches you, lets his mind wander to the worst possible thing you could say in this situation, and mentally prepares to book it to the bathroom.

You take a deep breath, “I regret it because I wasn’t supposed to spill it on him. I was supposed to spill it on you.”

Wait, what?

Minho blinks. “What are you talking about?”

This is humiliating for you. A terrible thing to have to admit. Up until this moment, you’d thought that this information would follow you to your grave. You press the heel of your palms to your eyes, “This is so embarrassing,” you groan.

Minho pulls one hand away. He’s not really sure what to say, mostly because he’s confused, but, “You can tell me.”

“I had…” you start, looking up at him slowly, “A plan. With Jiwoo.” Minho nods for you to continue. “I’d seen you and Hyunjin walking through the quad a few times, and I thought that you were cute, but I didn't know how to approach you. So I did something stupid and decided that I would literally just crash into you. But I fucked it up.”

I thought that you were cute. The words echo in Minho’s ears like a bell. All this time, all those stolen glances and lingering touches, all the ways you would make hope spike in his chest that maybe you felt the same—they were real.

“So you, wait—” Minho shakes his head, “So you’re telling me that all this time…”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, Min, really. All this time.”

Minho’s never been skydiving, but he imagines that this is what it feels like. Free falling—his soul hurtling towards earth at a horrifying speed, slamming back into his body right here in his living room with a force so strong it would knock him off his feet if he wasn’t already sitting on the floor. You were interested in him first.

Wordlessly, you lean forward, pulling out a piece with practiced ease. Minho waits with bated breaths.

“Can I kiss you?”

Minho feels like he might pass out. “Am I dreaming right now?”

“You didn’t pull out a piece.”

He scrambles forward, clumsily nudging a piece on the side that ends up sending the entire tower toppling over. You smile at him, soft and sweet. “Looks like you have to pay up with an answer. You know, since you lost.”

Minho doesn’t care. “Because I like you,” he breathes out, “I asked you on a date because I like you. I like you so much, ever since I saw you that day. And, funnily enough, I’ve always wished you’d spilled that coffee on me instead, too.”

The confession feels like a weight lifted off his shoulders. He’s spent so long pining after you, laying awake at night thinking about how this would go down if he ever got the chance. He never expected for it to happen like this, much less for you to possibly feel the same.

Panic slowly starts to rise in his chest when you don’t respond. He watches as you reach an arm over, build a small tower out of a few pieces, and then knock it over. You turn to him with a small smile, “Oops, I lost too.”

Minho is so in love with you that it hurts.

“I accepted the date because I like you, Minho. I’ve just been waiting for you to ask.”

He doesn’t think twice before he’s surging forward, cupping your face with one hand and kissing you with a tenderness that has you melting into his touch.

There’s no fireworks behind his eyes, no big bang or grand display of whatever it is that happens in the movies. But there’s a warmth, it starts out small in the center of his chest and spreads throughout his entire body, lights his skin aflame and travels all the way to his fingertips. You’re like that. A gentle presence, someone who worms their way into the very essence of his being and burrows into the deepest parts of him, like it was never his to begin with. Kissing you is slow, and deep, and right. He wouldn’t want it any other way. Minho doesn’t ever want to stop.

He lets his other hand fall to your waist, pulls you closer until you’re practically straddling him with his back against the couch, your knees on either side of his hips. Minho lets out a long, drawn out groan when you tilt his head back farther, his lips parting and allowing you to lick inside of his mouth. It’s so good. So good. He can’t believe he ever lived without knowing what this felt like; lived without ever having you this close before.

After a while, Minho reluctantly pulls back, holding you by the shoulders. When he looks up, your eyes are half-lidded. You look utterly debauched, cheeks pink and lips swollen from how hard they’d been pressed against his own. “We should probably slow down.” He tries hard to convince himself, too. “Talk about it all, you know? I don’t—this isn’t a one time thing for me. I don’t want it to be. I like you. I want you to know that.” He says softly, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

You lean into his hand, smiling when he flattens his palm to let your head rest there. “You’re like, so perfect that I want to kiss you until you forget your own name.”

Minho’s ears go red, his head falling forward until it rests against your collarbone. The feeling of his breath against your skin makes you laugh and run a hand through his hair, rubbing at the back of his neck fondly.

“This is gonna be so bad now that you say stuff like that.”

“Bad? No, I think it’s cute. You’re cute.”

“Shut up,” he whines, but there’s no bite to it. Not when he can look up and press a kiss to your lips. A dream come true. The entire world in his hands, exactly where it was always meant to be.

🏠

In the morning, when Jeongin comes back home, one hand covering his eyes just in case, he calls out,

“Everyone better be dressed! Or else I’m ripping up that napkin and making a new one with No fornicating on the furniture added into the fine print.”

When he doesn’t get a response, he rounds the corner, and finds the two of you nestled into the couch. Minho’s back is pressed into the cushions, his arms wrapped tightly around you as you nuzzle your face into his neck.

Jeongin huffs out a laugh, sends a quick text to Hyunjin that reads: Negative. Clothes are still on. But they’re so cute it’s almost sickening.

He snaps a picture to send to the group chat, grabs a piece of cold pizza, and retreats to his room.

Yang Jeongin Fanclub

jeongin: [Attachment: 1 image]

chan: AWWWWWWW

jiwoo: i’m gonna cry

changbin: dude is that the good pizza from down the street?

hyunjin: FINALLY

hyunjin: wait

hyunjin: does this mean i have to send back his $20?

[tags: @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny @strwbrrychannie ]

#lee know x reader #first date series : minho #lee know fluff #lee know angst #skz x reader #lee know fanfic #skz fanfic #lee know fic #skz fic #lee know fanfiction #skz fanfiction #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fic #stray kids fanfiction #lee know #godslino #first date series

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distantdarlings · 9 days

Text

TAUNTING // e. berkshire

RATING: R / 3.5K WORDS

Lorenzo Berkshire x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this and this* After hearing some rumors traveling about that Enzo Berkshire might have a thing for you, you decide to make him as jealous as you can.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! PIV, Oral sex (m!receiving), Dom!Enzo, Sub!Reader, slight degradation, praise, (1) slap, language, brief mention of alcohol, brief mention of drugs, brief mention of masturbation Fem Reader Insert, not fully read (if I left anything out, please lmk!!!)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Who Do You Want? - Ex Habit

You were being mean. You knew you were. But you couldn’t help it.

Every tick of his jaw, every twitch of his eyes, every snarl of his lips…it was intoxicating. You couldn’t believe you’d never noticed it before.

Enzo…his jealousy, his desire to touch you, to feel you, to be yours… His lust radiated off of him like heat waves, blistering your skin like radiation.

The sweat beading over your lips and across your forehead slid over the sides of your face, slicing down your flesh like knives. The hands on your waist tightened against your bones, clutching their fingers possessively into your body.

Despite the beat of the music threatening to vibrate your heart out of your chest, you could see his envy so clearly.

Through the haze and the sweat and the bodies, you could see his eyes harden and his knuckles bleed white. You just hoped that the little game you were playing with him wouldn’t lead to Theo getting hurt.

Precious Theo… Though the two of you had broken up over six months ago, it had been mutual and you both craved each other from time-to-time. You’d only slept together once since you’d broken up but you were getting antsy.

It had started with Pansy Parkinson telling you that she’d heard a rumor being spread around. A particularly dirty rumor that threatened to ruin a gorgeous boy’s social ego. You thought back to what she’d said.

“A couple girls from Ravenclaw that sit behind us in Potions swear Enzo gets a hard-on every time you slip your robe off.” Pansy giggled and slapped a hand over her lips to cover up any raucous laughter that threatened to slip out.

“Pansy! That’s such a lie!” you’d shrieked, giggling along with her. “Lorenzo Berkshire does not like me, let alone get a hard-on every time I take my robe off.” I’d whispered that last part, not wanting any walkers-by to hear your dirty conversation.

“It’s at least worth a check, just to see if it’s true.”

And that evening, during the last class of the day, you’d let your robe slide down your arms and land against the back of your chair. You’d turned back to glance at Enzo and, sure enough, his eyes were already on yours. When you made contact with him, he quickly glanced away and dropped his hand into his lap. You refrained from an evil smirk.

And now, here you were, dancing against Theo, your ex, trying your hardest to elicit a response from the boy eyeing you from across the room.

It was an end of semester party, just before the big exams and the end of the school year. You didn’t want to wait to see him again. Between exams and packing, you wouldn’t get another chance to do anything with him for a couple months.

You turned back toward Theo, letting your hair slide over your shoulder and brush across the back of your neck.

“Teddy, baby, will you do me a favor?” You pulled yourself close against him, whispering into his ear. The music and the amount of firewhisky in his system probably had half of your words drowned out.

“Of course,” he slurred. “What is it, darling?” Everytime he was drunk, his accent popped out tenfold. There was a time when he was absolutely irresistible to you, but now, you had your sights set on another.

“I’ll explain later, but—” you paused, hands on Theo’s face, his hands on your waist, and glanced back at Enzo to make sure he was watching— “I need you to kiss me hard.”

He pulled away and looked at you with a bit of shock. “Is this for me or someone else?”

“Someone else…is that okay?”

“I suppose,” he joked, rolling his eyes. “I’ll probably get someone else tonight anyway.”

“Ew, you whore.” The two of you laughed.

“You’re one to fucking talk, bella,” he teased, scraping his teeth gently against your jaw. You giggled and slapped him away quickly before refocusing.

Theo locked in and tangled a tight grip in your hair, yanking your face towards his. His lips found yours in a rough heat, claiming what used to be his. His lips tasted like firewhisky and his hands were dominating. It was almost enough to make you forget about poor little Enzo waiting across the hall for you like a kicked puppy.

You slowly pulled away from Theo, whispered a small thanks, and turned back to Enzo. Or, rather, the lack thereof. The space that was once occupied by the brooding boy was completely empty. Fuck. Maybe you’d gone too far.

You pushed your hair out of your face and moved away from the lanky boy you’d just been grinding on for the last half-hour. He’d busy himself elsewhere.

Swallowing thickly, you pushed through the bustling crowd, weaving in and around hot, sweating bodies reenacting what Theo and you had been doing, and what you and Enzo should be doing.

Once you came to a clearing where only a few stragglers stood around, and the dim light from the hallway torches contrasted against the cool-toned strobes above, you found him.

The hazy clouds of herbal smoke clouded your vision and senses; the second-hand inhales nearly made you light-headed.

Enzo stood with his back toward you, broad shoulder leaned against the doorframe, head tilted toward the sky, fingers clutching a messily-rolled joint.

His dark hair was shoved away from his face with a light gel that allowed his natural curl to peak out just a bit. Two silvery studs decorated his ears and matched the chain around his neck, that framed the slit of bare chest that was revealed by the black button-up he wore only half-buttoned. You nearly dragged him to your dorm right then and there.

You stalked over to him, moving briskly past your intoxicated peers, ignoring any call that came from any of them.

“Hey, En—”

Your voice was cut off by one of the random people standing behind you.

“Enzo! Where were you at practice tonight, man?”

One of his fellow Quidditch team members jogged up to him from behind you. Enzo turned to see who had called his name and, whilst finding his friend’s attention, he caught yours as well. You smiled just a bit, watching him closely.

As his friend ranted about what a great practice Enzo had missed, you watched as your dark-haired target of the night barely paid any mind to the boy in front of him, and looked you up and down slowly. You felt as if he was devouring every inch of your body with his eyes.

You smirked at his reaction to seeing you, but he didn’t return the smile. His jaw clenched tightly and he seemed almost angry. You wondered if you had pushed him too far.

“Yeah, yeah, man, I’ll talk to you later,” Enzo finally interrupted the boy and gave him a dismissive pat on the shoulder. Understanding that Enzo was done with the conversation, the boy broke away and wandered back into the bouncing crowd.

When the boy was gone, he took a long drag from the joint, and turned away from you. He was mad.

You rolled your eyes at how your plan seemed to have backfired and closed the distance between the two of you.

With a slow start, you slid around to the front of him, catching his eyes seductively. He stared at you but said nothing.

“En, I was wondering if I could speak with you?”

He took another long drag, tilted his chiseled jaw upwards, and blew the smoke toward the sky.

“I’m surprised you still have a voice, considering you just had Theo’s entire tongue shoved down your throat.” You blushed, embarrassed, and glanced towards the floor. You placed your hands innocently behind your back and glanced up at him.

“I was trying to make you jealous,” you whispered.

“What was that?” he dropped his head toward yours to try and meet your eyes. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you. Speak up.” He was demanding and stern but it only intrigued you more.

“I said I was trying to make you jealous.” You finally looked at him. He took another drag and glanced around, once behind him, then once farther into the party, before turning back around. He placed his hand onto the wall above your head, caging you completely against his broad body.

“Can I?” you asked, glancing down. Your eyes refused to leave his.

With his free hand, he gently but firmly pressed your chin between his thumb and forefinger. He tilted your head up and placed the joint between your lips, his smoky fingers brushing across them in the process. He watched as you took a deep inhale and your eyes fluttered as the drug filled your system. You knew you would feel it soon enough.

“That’s it,” he whispered, his voice low and dark. “Good girl.”

Even after you exhaled, he refused to remove his hand from your face as he took another inhale, dropped the joint to the stone ground, and stamped it out with his shoe.

“So, you were trying to make me jealous by rubbing your ass all over your ex and kissing him in front of him?” he asked.

You nodded. “Did it work?”

The peace in his eyes drained, leaving deep, angry voids. “Yes.”

His fingers drifted from your chin down to your throat where they wrapped stiffly around you. The light pressure he applied made it feel as though the drug was seeping into your system faster.

He pressed his face between your head and shoulder, lips brushing up against your skin.

“Every day in class you’d let that fucking robe slide down your body, you’d let your hair fall across your back, and you’d glance back at me with that fucking look on your face. Were you trying to get a rise out of me? Is this what you wanted?” he growled.

His hands were rough on you and his words were mean but he pressed a gentle kiss on your neck to soften the whole situation.

“Mmhmm,” you sighed to the air, your eyes fluttering closed once more.

“And then in there, with Theo?” he growled. “What's your game?”

When you didn’t answer, he wrapped his fingers tightly into your hair and held your head against the wall behind you, keeping you tightly in place. His eyes found yours once more, then your lips.

“Answer me,” he demanded.

“You, En…” you gasped. “I want you to fall in love with me so I thought I’d make you jealous.”

“Why did you think that would work?” he whispered, his voice menacing and cruel. “I don’t want to fall in love with you now, sweet girl…now I want Theo to watch me fuck you.”

His words made your knees buckle pathetically. Surely he didn’t mean what he said, but the thought of Enzo touching himself at night to voyeuristic fantasies of you and him made you want him even more. You nodded your head.

“Yeah? You want that, baby?” he cooed against your skin, eliciting chills across your chest and shoulders. His free hand trailed a gentle fingertip down your throat, then your collarbone, then between the split of fabric that pressed your cleavage together. The touch of his warm, rough fingers against your breasts made your breath stutter in your throat.

“Well, that’s too fucking bad.”

He pulled away suddenly, grabbed your hand, and roughly pulled you into the direction of the dungeon’s lavatories. You weren’t sure what he had in mind with the two of you going in there, but you were sure it couldn’t be anything good. Though at this point, your desire outweighed any threat of punishment from any form of authority. All you wanted was him.

He slammed the male lavatory door open and shoved you through, his movements rough and dominant. You stumbled over the threshold, the tiles slipping beneath your shoes.

In an attempt to catch your balance, you placed yourself against one of the small porcelain sinks lined against the western wall. Taking advantage of your current position, Enzo placed a wandless locking charm on the door and crossed over to you in milliseconds.

His head dropped below yours as his arms wrapped around the swell of your ass. He propped you up onto the sink behind you, careful to block the faucet from poking into your back.

With little regard for the increasing issue between your legs, he placed rough hands around your waist and ground your hips into his, allowing you to feel every inch of the issue he was also having.

You stifled a moan, your lips parting just a bit. He smirked meanly, his dazzlingly sharp teeth showcasing themselves between the slivers of moonlight sliding through the windows above.

“En, please…” you begged, your arms wrapping around his neck, trying to urge his lips towards yours.

“Ah, you can dole out the teasing, but you can’t take it, right?” he smirked. “Can you take it, baby?”

At his words, a single hand slid down briefly and skirted over the core of your body through the material of your dress. You gasped at the sensation.

“Please, baby, I’ll do anything!” you shined, pathetically reaching your hips back towards his.

“You’ll do anything?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow. You nodded quickly.

“Okay, baby,” he said, yanking you off the edge of the sink. Your feet hit the floor with a jolt that shot up your entire body.

“On your knees.” His voice was demanding and his eyes were cold. The lust that blossomed beneath his waist did little to melt the ice pooled in his pupils. You swallowed thickly, briefly wondering what you’d gotten yourself into. Whatever it was, you liked it.

You promptly obeyed and dropped to your knees, the thin flesh there bruising quickly. He wrapped your hair into a makeshift ponytail and tilted your head up to make eye contact.

“Suck.”

A shiver ran through your body as you quickly got to work sliding the button of his pants apart, and ripping the zipper down to the ground. Despite the layer of his briefs still between him and your mouth, you marveled at how big he was. You were slightly concerned you weren’t going to be able to fit him anywhere after having not been with anyone since Theo.

Nevertheless, you dropped his pants and briefs to the floor, his belt clinking on the way down. He was enormous and you refused to back down from any challenge handed to you. With a deep, shuddering breath, you wrapped your hands around the base of him and replaced the negative space with your mouth.

At the sensation of your tongue laying across him, the grip in your hair tightened significantly and Enzo groaned roughly. His free hand grasped the edge of the sink where you once sat in an effort to keep his stuttering knees afloat. The effect you appeared to be having on him made you all the more desperate for him.

“Good job, baby,” he groaned, “that’s so good.”

His words made the wetness pool between your legs more and more by the minute. If you didn’t have him within the next few minutes, you were going to have to give yourself something.

You pushed your head back against the hand holding you in place. He released his hold on your hair and looked down at you, a single bead of sweat dripping down the side of his jaw.

“What is it?” he panted.

“I want you,” you whined.

“No, I think you got enough from Theo.” His eyes were serious and biting. Blood drained from your face at the thought of not getting to feel him.

“No, please,” you begged, placing your hands against the edge of his stomach. “Please give me something…anything. I need you so bad.”

He seemed to be contemplating your words for a moment before he clicked his tongue and pulled you up by your hair. The slight burn on your scalp pulled a whimper from your lips as he directed your body right into the space he had just been occupying.

You were pressed back against the sink with his hips pressed into the back of you. A shudder passed across your lips as he turned your head to the mirror before you and demanded a single word: “Watch.”

Your lips parted in a gasp of disbelief as he flipped your dress over your back and roughly yanked your bottoms down around your ankles.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispered, his fingers ghosting over every part of where you needed him most. Your eyes fell shut as you reveled in the feeling of him touching you.

“Eyes open,” he asserted, bumping you into the sink a bit with his hips. You could feel the hot length of him against you.

When he decided he was ready to start with you, he placed hot fingers over your waist and guided you back and onto him.

At the stretch of him inside you, breath escaped you. Your heart pounded up and out of your chest, through your throat, and out onto the mirror before you. You felt as though you might collapse if it weren’t for the boy behind you holding you up.

You watched as his eyes fluttered shut behind you and a silent moan pierced his face. The expression of his pleasure, the size of him, and the fact you hadn’t been touched in months was almost enough to push you right over the edge.

His pace was set rather quickly. It was brutal and demanding, just like his personality. Your fingers wrapped tightly around the porcelain sink, begging for purchase on anything.

You watched him beat into you from behind, lathering in the feeling of him taking full and utter control of you. He was mean now, and he knew it as well.

A melody of moans and gasps escaped you as he hit everything he was supposed to with raging ferocity. His jaw clenched and his eyes opened a bit wider.

“Can Nott do this? Huh? He ever fuck you like this, baby?” he growled, fingernails clutching into your soft flesh. You whined at the feeling.

At the lack of your ability to reply, he grunted in frustration and laid a sharp slap to your ass. You gasped at the biting sensation and felt your pleasure begin to push itself over the edge.

“Answer me.”

“No! Nobody but you, baby. Nobody makes me feel this good.” You choked on your words, sweat dribbling across your throat.

The tail of your dress was clutched in his free hand and he used it as a kind of leverage to slam himself into you at record pace. You wouldn’t last for much longer if he continued his brutalization of your body. You felt delicate and helpless in his arms.

His form of fucking was so much different than Theo’s. Where Theo was long and thin and softer and let you take control from time-to-time, Enzo was thick and rough and kept you pinned down. Merlin, help.

As you quickly approached your end, your eyes rolled far back into your skull, demanding release from the inside-out. Your body couldn’t withstand anymore of Enzo’s cruelty—you were going to shamelessly finish against him, of which you breathlessly warned him.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispered. “Come for me.”

He leaned against you, forcing himself into you even deeper, and pressed his lips against the shell of your ear.

“Say my name—not his… mine.”

“Enzo, baby…,” you whispered, his words against your skin dropping chills down your spine.

“Say it again,” he groaned, his pace becoming more desperate and his voice more strained.

“Enzo…”

“Again,” he moaned, his fingers tightening against you.

“I’m fucking close, Enzo,” you whined. His speed quickened.

“Oh, I’ve touched myself to the thought of you saying that to me, baby,” he groaned, breath fanning against your cheek.

At his sinful words, you could feel your body be shoved over the edge.

You came with a breathless scream, the sensation hitting you harder than Enzo’s hips pounding against you.

Seconds after you’d rode out the edge of your finish, Enzo released a high-pitched moan against your ear—one so beautifully contrasting to his deep, demanding voice from earlier.

When the two of you had finally finished and come back to your senses, breaths heaving and lips swollen, you laughed hysterically.

Despite the weight of the situation only moments before, the two of you could feel the glee just from being able to finally touch the other.

The pent-up desire Enzo harbored for you and the newfound lust planted in your heart had created a heat-fueled rush that caught you both off guard. But neither of you could lie, it was far better than anything you’d felt in a while. No offense, Theo.

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#fanfiction #creative writing #fanfic #writing #reader insert #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #oneshot #slytherin #harry potter smut #enzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo Berkshire smut #Enzo Berkshire smut #request #slytherin boys #fem reader #enzo berkshire x reader

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onlymingyus · 9 months

Text

Your Games Suck: Next Level

pairing; jeon wonwoo x choi seungcheol x f reader

genre; smut (minors dni)

warnings; unprotected sex, protected sex, dom!wonwoo, dom!seungcheol, sub!reader, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), hand on throat, breeding kink, creampie, cumplay, praise, degrading, petnames, degrading names, manhandling, scratching, pining down, a lot of tension between wonwoo and seungcheol, aftercare

w/c; 4k and some change

requested; no

a/n; i blame wonwoo and cheol for this one. -- i am scheduling this fic to drop at the time promised, any tags owed to my taglist will come later in the day once i have slept since my schedule is messed up from work. my apologies!

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

“This is fucking stupid.”

“Restart it.”

Wonwoo laughs even as his lips brush over your throat and your moans carry through the room to tempt Seungcheol’s ears. He knew his friend was frustrated, but that was the point of the game. Could Seungcheol make it through a single round of the game without cursing?

Glancing over his shoulder, Seungcheol groans to the sight of your back arched off the bed. You were beautiful and he wanted nothing more than to throw the controller in his hand onto the desk and bury his cock into you. Instead, he was clenching the plastic and metal in his hand so hard it was popping under the pressure.

“Ah…fuck you feel so good.” Wonwoo groans the words as he rolls his hips towards yours. You were clenching around him deliciously. He knew you were close, but he wouldn’t let you cum too quickly. “Cheol…if you break my things I won’t let you play with Y/N.”

Muttering under his breath, Seungcheol loosens his grip on the controller only to feel it vibrate in his hands and to see his character die in the game.

“Oh, what the fuck! This isn’t fair.”

Wonwoo raises a brow, sliding his arm under your back to lift you toward him as he glances at the man sitting at his desk. He knew that Seungcheol knew the rules so he just watched as the man pressed restart with a pout on his face. Wonwoo couldn’t help but grin situating you into his lap, your knees on either side of his strong but slender thighs.

“Come on baby, give him a pep talk. At this point, the poor man is going to be running around the same area while I make you cum to the point of exhaustion and then he won’t get to fuck you because you won’t be able to stay awake.”

Heat spreads across your cheeks at Wonwoo’s words, but you knew he wasn’t joking. Not with that dark look in his eyes and with the way his hips were pistoning into you like a man on a mission. You knew you were leaking obscenely over his cock and his thighs, but it only served to make him work harder.

“Cheollie…oh god! I need you to win the game. I want your cock too. Don’t you want my pussy around your cock? Haven’t you missed me? Just be a good boy and don’t curse.”

The sound of an exasperated breath escapes Seungcheol’s lips at your words. The man shakes his head in disbelief at how filthy your little mouth could be and he finds himself wanting to stuff it full of his cock or fingers instantly.

“You have no idea how fu—freaking distracting you are right now Y/N. This game is already a…it’s hard, but I also have to listen to your slutty little mouth running and moaning behind me and there isn’t a thing I can do about it.”

Wonwoo smirks when you smile at Seungcheol’s words and how he manages to skip around the words that would get him sent back to the beginning of the level once again. A sharp slap to your ass draws your attention back to your boyfriend who lifts his brows at you, his bottom lip caught in his teeth between groaning breaths.

“I’m sorry, Seungcheol. I just can’t be quiet. Not when Wonwoo’s so deep inside of me and when I know that you are so hard. I can’t help but want you both inside of me. Try harder for me? I need you to fuck me. I might cry if you don’t.”

Laughing, Seungcheol lifts his hand from the controller briefly to brush his hair back as he bites back the urge to curse. He was now further in the game than he had been all night so maybe your little pep talk was actually working. Either way, he wanted to give you exactly what you wanted while also teaching you just who he was.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head, baby. I’ll make sure you cry, how does that sound? Now let me finish this game so I can show your boyfriend a thing or two, huh?”

When you giggle, amused with Seungcheol’s answer, Wonwoo’s hand meets your ass once again causing you to moan his name as you clench around him tightly.

“So much talk and not enough playing. Mm, she’s gonna cum, Cheol. You’re gonna miss the first one. What a damn shame, all because you can’t restrain your mouth.”

With his thumb pressed against your clit, Wonwoo keeps his eyes on your face as he watches you fall apart on his cock for the first time that night. Seungcheol’s groan fills the room, but instead of the sound of a pleasured groan, it is an annoyed one as he listens to your whining moans. Slowing his thrusts, Wonwoo lets his fingers trail along your thighs. A smirk on his face, eyes locked on yours, your boyfriend lets you roll your hips over him to ride out your high.

“Such a good fucking girl.”

Lifting a hand to his face, Wonwoo pushes sweat from his brow before looking over at Seungcheol. The man’s shoulders tense, his eyes locked on the screen as he tries desperately to keep his attention on the task at hand. Even from where he was Wonwoo could see how far Seungcheol was in the game. He had played it so many times he knew the map by heart and with you still clenching around him, he knew you were desperate for another orgasm.

“Watch that building Cheol. You’ll get hit and sent back.”

Surprised by his friend’s merciful tip, Seungcheol almost misses the gunmen hiding in the building but is able to dodge the shot letting out a sigh under his breath. You watch under lowered lids as the man bites at his plush lips trying to keep any forbidden words from slipping between them.

“Oh god…that’s so good. Wonwoo, he’s getting so far. I need more, go harder?”

Leaning his head forward, Seungcheol laughs in disbelief at what he is hearing and missing. Forcing himself to keep his eyes forward, just a growl of frustration slipping from his bitten lips. When Seungcheol finally drops the controller onto the desk with a loud thud, the screen proudly displays the level complete.

Wonwoo can only laugh, his hand resting next to your head as he thrusts into you hard and deep like you had asked. His eyes meet Seungcheol’s as the man swivels the chair around to take in the scene in front of him.

“I did it. I finished it.”

Nodding, Wonwoo smirks at his friend, lifting his hand to brush your hair from your eyes as he leans you back on the bed so you can look at Seungcheol.

“And now you want your prize, Cheollie?”

Scoffing, Seungcheol nods before moving to stand from his chair. You can’t help the way your eyes fall on the obvious bulge in the front of his sweatpants that causes your mouth to water and for you to clench around Wonwoo.

“I think I deserve it. You have no fucking idea how hard that was. All that moaning and whining behind my back. You like having cock inside you that much, little whore?”

Watching the man, you arch your back letting out a moan when Wonwoo’s teeth graze over your soft skin near your nipple. Your boyfriend’s low chuckle draws your attention back to him only for him to tilt your head back towards Seungcheol so you can watch the man undress.

“Don’t be rude, Princess. He earned this, didn’t he? You’ve whined about wanting him back in our bed.”

Seungcheol smirks at Wonwoo’s words, his hands making quick work of his shirt letting your eyes drink in the sight before you. Whining Seungcheol’s name, you cling to the sheet under you causing the fabric to strain under your fingertips. You knew the man was teasing you just as much as you knew your boyfriend was enjoying the way your pussy was clenching around his cock.

“What is it, Y/N? Am I not moving fast enough for you? I had to sit at that desk for almost an hour listening to Wonwoo’s fingers fucking you and then his dick. Do you realize how wet you get and how loud it is? Do you even know how to muffle your moans?”

Shaking your head no, you feel your cheeks heat up. Wonwoo smiles against your breasts before leaning to sit up, his hands sliding along your thighs. The man’s eyes fall between your legs to where his cock slowly enters you again and again.

“Would you want her to be quiet? If she had been, your dumbass would still be dodging headshots.”

Seungcheol rolls his eyes, his thumbs pushing at his sweatpants. Grumbling under his breath, he steps forward letting his pants fall to the floor when his eyes meet yours, and his ego soars. Seungcheol can’t help but to smirk at how your mouth is watering over the sight of his cock. Tilting his head, he lifts his brow before stepping closer to the bed moving to rest his knee on the mattress, keeping just out of reach of you.

“What’s that look for, baby? You like what you see that much? You already have a cock inside you and you are looking at me like I’m something to eat. You want something in that cute little mouth?”

Reaching out, Seungcheol’s lips fall open at your soft gasp as his thumb brushes against your lips. The feeling of your warm tongue presses to the pad of his finger and the man’s mind spins with how much he wants you.

“Wonwoo…help me slide her back or I’ll pull her off your dick.”

Rolling his eyes, Wonwoo bites back his annoyance with Seungcheol choosing to give in to his request instead. You smile at your boyfriend as his hands lift at your hips and Seungcheol’s wrap under your arms so that the men can move you towards the end of the bed.

“You could have just asked me to move.”

Seungcheol laughs, his fingers brushing over your head before you feel his fingers tighten against your scalp causing you to whine into a moan. Wonwoo narrows his eyes until he watches your mouth fall open in pleasure, the other man leaning down to speak against your lips.

“What’s the fun in that? When you have two men here who’d happily move you all over this house to fuck you? Do me a favor and open that mouth. Stick out your tongue.”

Watching you follow Seungcheol’s requests, Wonwoo digs his fingers into your thighs quickening his thrusts, beginning to feel that sense of possessiveness rush over him like it had in the past when he had shared you. It wasn’t that he couldn’t do this, it wasn’t that he didn’t want to, or that he didn’t enjoy it. The point was that it brought out a different side of Wonwoo, it made him want to claim you even more.

“You remember the rules, Cheol?”

Waving his hand at Wonwoo, Seungcheol dismisses his friend in place of watching your tongue slip from your mouth. A smirk spreads across his face, Seungcheol groans, his hand wrapping around his shaft so that he can guide his cock to your waiting mouth.

“Fuck, good girl. You look so pretty like this. Getting fucked and still wanting my cock down your throat.”

You can’t help but whine at Seungcheol’s words and the weight of his cock on your tongue. Your eyes locked on him, you lean forward to take his head into your mouth, relishing the sound of his groan when warmth envelopes him and you hollow your cheeks.

Fingers once again tighten in your hair, nails sliding against your scalp as Seungcheol leans his head back to close his eyes. The feeling of your mouth was almost as good as being between your thighs and he was going to commit it to memory.

Thrusting into you hard enough to send you towards Seungcheol, Wonwoo groans your name before pulling from you completely, causing you to whine around Seungcheol. With a sharp slap to your thigh, Wonwoo then leans down to press a kiss to your warm skin as his cock throbs at the loss of your warm walls around him. He just couldn’t finish first, not when Seungcheol was in the room, he needed to be the last person you were with.

“Take it all, Princess. There you go…all the way to your throat. Perfect.”

The moment the tip of Seungcheol’s cock hits the back of your throat and you gag around the man you have to pull back not only to breathe but because of the feeling of Wonwoo’s mouth between your legs. His lips wrap around your clit and with the same intensity you had been using to go down on Seungcheol, your boyfriend sucks at the sensitive bundle of nerves causing you to tighten your thighs around his head.

“Holy shit! Calm down, Y/N. I can’t cum in your mouth and I don’t want to. Fuck…keep your damn hips down. Can’t you see that Wonwoo is working hard for you? Don’t run away from him.”

The two men caused your head to spin. One minute they were arguing, biting at each other’s throats over nonsense and the next they were working together to drive you crazy. Sliding his hand along the center of your stomach, Seungcheol works his fingers between your legs using two of them to spread your folds for Wonwoo’s tongue. A smirk spreads across his features at your reaction, the way your back arches before he pushes you back down.

“You gonna cum on his tongue like a good little slut? Be a good girl for your boyfriend. He’s being generous tonight. Give him one more before I fuck you so hard you can’t walk tomorrow.”

Nudging his nose against Seungcheol’s hand, Wonwoo groans against your folds before moving to wrap his arm around your thigh pulling you in closer to his mouth. You loved anytime that Wonwoo would eat you out but there was something different about tonight. There was something about how he seemed to be trying to prove a point with how quickly he could push you over the edge by knowing every inch of you.

“Oh my god…Wonwoo!”

Your fingers slide into the man’s hair, tightening harshly when you cum like both of the men had been urging you to do. Wonwoo smiles against your soft skin taking turns between licking you clean of the cum beginning to seep from your entrance to placing kisses on your swollen folds and clit.

“That’s my girl.”

Your cheeks burn at Wonwoo’s muffled words, your fingers gliding through his hair once again before the man’s gaze meets yours from between his legs. A glint of mischief in his eyes before he leans to nip at your thigh causing you to kick your legs playfully when he moves from between them.

“Cheol…need you now. I feel empty. You made promises.”

The man at your side can only laugh at your words and how you whine them on panting breaths. He loved to hear you beg for him but he wasn’t in the mood to deny you tonight, not when he had been waiting for so long to be inside you.

Sliding from the bed, Seungcheol can feel your eyes on him as he stops only to pick up the condom that Wonwoo had laid out for him. The same smirk that had been playing at his lips all night causes his lips to pull up to one side even as he holds the foil square between his teeth and rips it open.

You can’t seem to help how antsy you are in anticipation watching Seungcheol roll the condom over his thick cock. His eyes once again find you as he moves to take Wonwoo’s place. Warm, skillful hands slide over your sides to your legs as Seungcheol listens to your breaths become moans.

Wonwoo’s brows furrow, his cock resting back on his stomach as he settles into the chair beside the bed. Running his hand over his face, Wonwoo has a mental fight with himself on how long he will stay seated. How long he will be able to just sit there and watch his best friend touch you like that. It isn’t until you gasp out Seungcheol’s name, the older man’s hands pushing your legs towards your chest, his arms moving to pin yours at your side that Wonwoo makes another sound.

“Dammit, Cheol, be careful with her.”

Seungcheol smirks against your cheek, the feeling of your warm breath brushing against his face as he feels the heat of your pussy against his cock resting against your folds. Lifting his hips, the man glances towards Wonwoo with a questioning look before reaching between your bodies to line himself up with you and sinking into you slowly and deeply.

“I’m not doing anything she doesn’t want. You know your safe words don’t you, baby? Do you want me to treat you soft and gentle? Or…do you want me to keep my promise and wreck you?”

Tears run from the corners of your eyes as you whisper your answer to Seungcheol causing Wonwoo to curse under his breath. He already knew the answer but it was driving him crazy. He knew better than anyone how much you enjoyed Seungcheol treating you like this, he knew that you liked it when he treated you rough. There was a time and a place for gentle lovemaking and it wasn��t tonight.

“Please, Cheol…don’t stop. Feels so good, you’re so deep.”

Seungcheol chuckles into a groan. Your walls closing around him, the man nips at your lips before capturing them in a kiss for the first time that night swallowing your moan for himself. Wonwoo can only watch feeling as if he was tied to the chair, his cock leaking heavily against his abs.

“That’s right I am, Y/N. You like me deep? Hmm? Fuck, you are so tight. Wanna fill this pussy up with my cum, you’d want that, wouldn’t you? Leave it all dirty for you? Wonwoo would clean it up for you, wouldn’t you Wonwoo?”

Fingers digging into the chair, Wonwoo bites at his lips hearing you moan that you want it. He knew you were lost in the moment and he also knew there was no way, short of Seungcheol taking off the condom, that he could cum inside of you. This was a power trip and one that Seungcheol enjoyed far too much when it came to fucking you.

“You are fucking pushing your luck, Cheol. You’ll never do that to her.”

Seungcheol laughs, his lips sliding along your neck as he feels your thighs trembling against his chest under him. He could tell you were close, but so was he. Groaning out your name, Seungcheol runs his tongue along your neck to your ear whispering against your ear loud enough for Wonwoo to just barely hear.

“Never say never, right little whore?”

Scratching at his arms, you gasp out a moan loudly as your orgasm rips through you when Seungcheol’s cock hits you just right. Toes pointed, you find it hard to breathe, your vision clouded by tears from how intense the sensation is when the man burying his cock into you doesn’t slow down. Instead, Seungcheol chases his own high that quickly follows yours. With a loud groan, Seungcheol buries his face back against your neck as his cum fills the condom instead of you.

His hips coming to a stop, Seungcheol pants against your skin before leaning back to look down at you in wonder. Lifting his hand, the man rests it against your throat before running his fingers along your jaw and leaning down to kiss you deeply as he keeps his body connected to yours.

Swallowing hard, Wonwoo tilts his head. His own breath was unsteady from watching you and Seungcheol come undone together. He allows you both a few moments of silence until it becomes too much to handle and the sound of the chair under him sliding across the floor draws both yours and Seungcheol’s attention.

Lips pull up in a smile against your own before Seungcheol pulls away. A soft whimper escapes your lips to the feeling of the man sliding from you leaving you once again empty. Licking his lips, Seungcheol glances at Wonwoo unsure of what his reaction would be. He isn’t completely surprised when he meets an unamused gaze.

“Princess, did you have fun with Cheol?”

Nodding, you lift your own hand to your face pushing your hair from your eyes as Seungcheol helps you lower your legs. The man then slides from the bed completely not wanting to piss off Wonwoo any more than he already had.

“Mm, I had fun too, baby. Maybe we can do it again soon.”

Wonwoo purses his lips glancing back at Seungcheol who had already taken care of his condom.

“Soon" is a relative term. Do you still want me, Princess?”

Looking up at Wonwoo as if he had asked you the dumbest question possible, you watch the man’s lips turn up in a smile when you reach for him. Seungcheol’s brows lift as his friend moves back onto the bed without first telling him to leave.

“Did you want me to…”

“Sit the fuck down and watch, Cheol.”

With his brow lifting, Seungcheol clears his throat before doing as Wonwoo wants. His hands find the arms of the chair, similar to how Wonwoo had when he had been sitting before, but it felt different for Seungcheol.

“You see…” Wonwoo grins looking down at you, his fingernails running along your thigh to pull your leg up towards his hip allowing you to do the same on the other side as he pushes into you with one slow thrust. “Where you can talk shit and say how much you want to fill her up…I can do it.”

A breath escapes Seungcheol’s lips and as much as you want to look over to the man, the feeling of Wonwoo’s cock pushing against your cervix keeps you where you are. Your lips fall open in a moan and much like Seungcheol had done, Wonwoo leans to kiss you collecting the moan for himself. Teeth nip at your lips leaving them feeling swollen and bitten as Wonwoo’s cock fills you deeply and completely with each skillful, knowing thrust.

“That’s what you want isn’t it, Y/N? Cum dripping out of you? You wanna let Seungcheol see what he can do? Let him learn his fucking place?”

When you nod, Seungcheol lifts his hand to his lips pushing at them as his cock throbs against his thigh once again hard. He knew he should be pissed off that Wonwoo was talking so much shit but instead, he was fascinated by it all.

“Please, Wonwoo…I need it.”

Wonwoo pouts in faux concern at the whine in your tone as you beg for his cum. He was close and he was going to give you exactly what you wanted. Nodding, your boyfriend nips at your lips once again whispering how much he loves you against them as the coil that had been winding inside of him snaps. You feel his warm cum spilling into you only to be pushed out with each deep thrust.

Seungcheol can only groan at the sight, his breath getting caught in his throat. Even if it wasn’t his cum dripping out of your pussy it was still the most beautiful thing he had seen all night. He could just imagine pushing it back into you. As if he could sense what his friend wanted, Wonwoo slips from you only to reach between your legs. Two fingers brush between your swollen folds to find your dripping entrance. Your loud moans once again fill the room as Wonwoo fucks his cum back into you with his fingers making sure he feels your cum running down his wrist along with his own before he stops.

“Fuck, perfect.”

Whispered words tickle your ear as Wonwoo slides his fingers from you. His lips pepper your neck and shoulder until you feel the bed shift as the man slides from it completely. The feeling of Seungcheol’s plush lips finds your cheek along with the warmth of his chuckle as he whispers for you to get some rest your eyes close when both men leave you in the room alone. It isn’t until Wonwoo’s hands run along your hips and his deep voice mutters against your ear sometime later that you whine in protest causing him to laugh.

“You’ve slept long enough. You need to take a shower and eat something. I should have made you get up right afterwards but you were dead to the world.”

Muttering against the bed, you cause a laugh to escape Wonwoo as he pulls you up from the comforter into his arms with a questioning sound for you to speak again.

“Said, where is Seungcheol?”

Gentle fingers brush against your side as Wonwoo helps you slide off the bed and towards the bathroom. His lips meet your neck with a sigh at your question.

“He went home. He needed to rest too. You are a lot of work, you know that?”

Pushing at his shoulder, you can’t hide your smile. Wonwoo walks you into the warm shower letting you lean against him as he helps you wash the night from your skin.

“I liked it.”

The man nods, a smile on his lips feeling you nuzzle your face against his neck. It was becoming a lot easier to share when he was the one who got the moments like this at the end.

“Mm, I know. I liked it too. He’s gotta work on his damn mouth first. Can’t have that around my, Princess.”

Wrinkling your nose, you laugh at how Wonwoo phrases his comment, turning in his arms to rest your forearms on his shoulders as you rest between his knees. The man’s body leaning against the shower wall, the water running down your back and legs like rain.

“Seems like someone needs to work on yours.”

Wonwoo grins, his lips pressing against your soft and sweet.

“Mmm, you gonna help me with that?”

Laughing, you brush your fingers through the wet hair at the nape of his neck as his fingers trail along your lower back.

“It’s the least I can do.”

#wonwoo smut #seungcheol smut #seventeen smut #svthub #scoups smut #svt smut #wonwoo x reader #seungcheol x reader #seventeen x reader #scoups x reader #svt x reader

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hearts4chriss · 3 months

Text

haunted.

Boyfriend! Chris x poc! Girlfriend

Prompt: basically Chris eating you out too this song

Part 5

warnings: squirting, creampie, use of pet names ( baby, princess and mama ), hair pulling, mentions of reader having thick thighs, mentions of Chris eating u like it’s his last meal😛

START AT 5:11!!

Los Angeles, 8:57pm, my room with dimly lit with purple LED lights as haunted by Beyoncé played in the background as his pretty face was in between my thighs.

“ Oh- mmph fuck Chris! “ I moan my head on the soft fluffy pillows, normally which my face is buried in but this time it wasn’t, Chris’s tongue pressed flat on my wet pussy caused vibrations through my body.

My moans were his motivation to bring me as much pleasure he could, legs shaking, multiple orgasms pulled out of me, to the point where I’d have to push his head away. That’s what Chris sturniolo does to me

it’s where we go

I gripped the brunettes hair tightly making him groan pressing his lips too my core with no intention of stopping. The way Chris’s tongue flicked quickly I couldn’t even process it all, it was so euphoric.

“ fuck your so wet for me “- he panted out as I saw his face glistening in the dim lit room before immediately pushing my thighs back his nose rubbing against my clit and his tongue even further sucking harshly enough to make me moan loudly

It’s where we’ll be

My head crashes against the pillows as I hold my thighs back Chris fully submerged in my dripping cunt, writing his name occasionally enough to make my toes curl and thighs shake beneath him.

I know if on to you, I’m on to you

The thing this song does to me, whenever it plays I just think about Chris going down on me, making me cum multiple times, as he was now, I had already had 3 orgasms approaching for a fourth

“Fuck Fuckk! Chris shit! “I cry out opening my legs as much as good and feeling his lips occasionally give my clit kisses sending me over the edge

“That’s a good girl spread ur legs for me-“ Chris smirked rubbing my clit before darting his eyes up at me licking my pussy once again and I wined getting louder as felt my stomach heating up with a sensation familiar to other times

On To you, I’m onto you

“Chris- ah- fuck I’m cumming- “ I nearly screamed out the boys name but oh I was cumming more like squirting, I was a fucking mess, leaving a wet patch beneath my ass entirely soaking Chris’s face

You must be onto me.

“ Damn mama I didn’t know I could get you to squirt like that for me shit- that was hot. “

tag list !!

@mattsleftnipple03 @bernardsleftbootycheek @sturniolopowers @gdsvhtwa @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @alexoslurr @worldlxvlys @chrisslut25 @princessbetsy123-blog @mattslolita @guccifrog @blahbel668 @mattsneezing @trickywritters @hearts4chris @nonamegirlxsturniolo @luvmxtt @theyluv-meee @mattsnymphette @hoesformatt @luv4kozume

#Spotify #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #nicolas sturniolo #smut

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notsosweetchan · 2 months

Text

˚ʚ♡ɞ Making The Boy Mine ˚ʚ♡ɞ

Warning: Smut

Paring: | Hyunjin x Reader |

They were both aware that what they were doing was wrong. Hyunjin was already seeing someone, but their relationship wasn't serious. As for Y/N, she wasn't involved with anyone at the moment. Y/N's eyes fluttered shut as Hyunjin's tongue danced against hers, her heart racing.

This was wrong, but she couldn't help herself; the desire between them was too strong. His hands roamed down her back, gently tracing the contours of her spine before cupping her ass and pulling her body closer to his.

She moaned into the kiss, feeling his hardness pressing against her stomach. He broke away from their kiss, his forehead leaning against hers as they caught their breath.

"I shouldn't be doing this," he muttered, voice rough and low.” It’s not fair to her, but I can't stop thinking about you."

Y/N looked into his dark chocolate-brown eyes, her own reflecting the same turmoil. "I know," she whispered. "But I can't stop either."

Without another word, they both surrendered to their desires as Hyunjin scooped her up, carrying her over to the couch. He laid her down gently, their lips crashing together once more as he began to unbutton her blouse.

Her hands were just as frantic, tugging at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against hers. As they rid themselves of their clothes, they exchanged heated glances, the air between them thick with lust and anticipation. Hyunjin's lips trailed down her neck, leaving a path of fire in their wake as his fingers moved to unclasp her bra.

He teased her breasts, flicking his tongue around her hardened nipples, eliciting moans from the depths of Y/N's throat she didn't know she was capable of making. His touches were slow and feather-like but firm enough to drive her wild. She arched her back, craving more of his touch.

"Hyun-ah," she moaned, running her fingers through his soft black hair.

He looked up at her, his eyes dark with desire. "Tell me you want this, Y/N," he said, his voice a husky whisper in her ear.Tell me you're sure."

"I'm sure," she breathed, her voice shaking slightly. "I want this. I want you."

That was all the encouragement he needed as he descended between her thighs, his tongue dancing over her already sensitive clit. Y/N arched her back further, her nails digging into the couch cushions as pleasure coursed through her body.

Hyunjin knew just how to touch her, making every nerve ending in her body sing with ecstasy. He curled his fingers inside her, his tongue and fingers working in sync to bring her pleasure she had only ever dreamt of.

"God,Hyunjin," she moaned, her toes curling. "Don't stop."

He didn't listen to her pleas, however; in fact, he seemed to take it as a challenge to tease her even more. He slowed down his motions, sending her over the edge of insanity. "Hyunjin, please!" she whimpered, begging for release.

Suddenly, he stopped and looked up at her with a mischievous grin. "Not yet," he said, leaving a trail of kisses up her stomach before positioning himself between her legs.

Y/N whimpered in frustration but soon forgot everything else as he entered her slowly, filling her completely.

"You feel so good," he groaned, his eyes locked on hers as he began to move inside her, picking up speed with each thrust.

Y/N's nails dug into his back as he angled his hips to hit that spot deep inside that made her see stars. So lost in the pleasurer they didn’t hear his phone ring , vibrating on the coffee table. The sound of voice message started to play “ Hey Hyunjin I know it’s late but I was wondering if you wanted to go on date tomorrow night.”

Either of them didn’t even notice the voice continuing “I know it’s short notice but I really want to see you again and I thought maybe we could try that new sushi place you were telling me about...”

This spurred Hyunjin on even more, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he picked up the pace. Y/N's moans drowned out the rest of the message, her entire world narrowing down to him and the way he felt inside her.

Hyunjin thrust into her, his hips pistoning as he took her breath away with each powerful stroke. They were both lost in the heat of the moment, their shared secret desire consuming them both. Y/N's hair tickled his chest as her head tilted back, eyes closed tightly as she arched her back to meet his movements.

He bit his lips to stifle a moan as he felt her tight heat squeeze around him, loving the way she felt underneath him. Her warmth enveloped him, drawing him even further into this forbidden encounter.

His hand found hers on the couch and laced their fingers together, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. Their skin was slick with sweat from the passionate movement, bodies moving in perfect unison despite the guilt that still lingered between them.

He leaned down again to capture her lips in a fiery kiss, his tongue invading her mouth as they wrestled together in a heated dance. The taste of each other filled his senses, and he could feel her wet heat against his shaft as she lifted her hips to meet him once more.

She could hear the sound of their ragged breathing mixing together, the smell of their sweat and arousal filling the room.

It only fueled their desire for each other, making it hard for either of them to think about stopping or pulling away. They were lost in this haze of lust and longing, pushing aside any thoughts of what could or should happen next.

As they moved together faster and faster, Y/N wrapped her legs around Hyunjin's waist, pulling him deeper into her core. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders as she tried to hold onto this feeling for as long as possible – it was addictive and consuming all at once.

Hyunjin's hand found its way between her legs, his thumb brushing against her clit as he continued to thrust inside her. The pressure was building within her core, and she knew she wouldn't last much longer.

"Hyunjin," she moaned, her voice unrecognizable even to her own ears. "I...I can't...oh, god..."

That was all it took for Hyunjin to pick up the pace even more, his hips slamming into hers with a renewed fervor. He couldn't help but moan into her neck as he felt himself getting closer too, his entire body tense with the effort of holding back.

"Cum with me," he panted against her ear before they both gave in to the overwhelming pleasure.

Y/N's world exploded around her as she climaxed, her body tensing up and arching off the couch. Hyunjin followed closely behind, gripping her hips tightly as he came inside her.

They lay there, panting for air, their chests heaving in unison as they tried to catch their breath.

Finally, Hyunjin pulled away, collapsing beside her on the couch.

They both lay there, trying to regain any semblance of composure. It was only then Y/N spoke up “ Are you going to call her back?” she asked softly not looking at him.

Hyunjin placed a hand on her thigh, guiding her to look at him “No, I’m to addicted to you and I don’t think I could ever want anyone else but you” he said stroking her cheek gently.

Y/N's heart raced in her chest as she met his eyes. She knew that this boy was hers.

#stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #stray kids imagine #stray kids smut #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz imagine #skz smut #hyunjin imagines #skz hyunjin #hyunjin imagine #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin #hyunjin smut #hyunjin stray kids #hyunjin skz

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fruitglazed · 3 months

Note

WHAT KIND OF RECS

rough sex w matt pls im in heatttttttttttt

I hope this makes your pussy throb. ୨⍣୧

♡

Turning off the water, you open the shower door, grabbing the towel you placed on the counter. Wrapping it over your body, you hear a ding. Checking your phone, it reads “See you at 6pm, pretty girl.” Confirmation text from Matt, your boyfriend of a few months. Followed by another ding, you glance down at your phone again. “Bro, I’m right next to you, no need to text me.” His brother Chris sent back. Chuckling to yourself, you dry both your hands off on the towel around your frame. “See you boys tonight. And Nick, what’re you wearing?” Pressing send, you smile to yourself. Our hebdomadal dinner was a go tonight. The four of you decided on a fancy Steakhouse. One of your favorites in particular. Expensive, but yummy. It was Matt’s turn to pay. You love to watch Matt get riled up whenever Chris would order almost the entire menu since he wasn’t in charge of the bill this time. Running out of the bathroom after finishing your hair and makeup, you head into your room browsing through your closet. With another ding from your phone- “White tank top and my corduroy striped pants. The purple ones.” Loving the message, you threw your phone on the bed. Time to get to work. Stripping each article of clothing you had from its place, you managed to decide on a simple satin dress. Eggshell shade, buttons on one side, starting from the hip, down to the slit of the dress. Not too short, just the perfect length. Thin spaghetti straps, hanging over your shoulders. The dress fit you in all the right places. To compliment Nick, you found a pair of open toed purple sandals. Adding on all your gold accessories, you look at the clock. 5:49pm. Dousing yourself with your favorite smell, you head back into your room and grab your phone. As you scroll through, you press Matt’s contact to give him a call. “Hey, baby. What’s up?” Matt says. “Just finished getting ready, I can’t wait to see you tonight. I’m wearing a pretty dress for you, I hope you’ll take it off of me later.” You breathe out. Almost moaning. You and Matt were like wild animals when it came to sex. Time and place didn’t matter. Matt’s breathing became louder as he spoke into the phone. “You don’t have to ask me twice. Should I just cancel dinner and come do it now?” Laughing you said you wouldn’t mind. Matt could fuck you any time he pleased, and you’d thank him. You weren’t shy when it came to him touching and fucking you. “I think we should role play tonight.” You suggested. This was one of your favorites to do with Matt. He thought it was fun, especially since you always got into character. “Sure, baby. That sounds like fun. We’re on our way to get you now.” Cheerfully, Matt had responded back. “See you soon, baby.” Blowing a kiss over the phone, you hung up.

Luckily the drive to your place from theirs, was only 2 minutes give or take. You locked up the house and walked to the end of the driveway. Pulling up, you see Matt in the drivers seat, and Chris in the passenger seat. Chris hops out of the door to offer you the front, but you decline and slip into the backseat next to Nick. “Hi boys! Are we ready for dinner this evening?” You exclaim. “Oh yes girl. Chris has been pissing me off all day because he’s hungry. Literally at any point he could’ve gotten a snack and just shut the fuck up.” Nick huffed out, smacking his lips. “Nick, shut up. You know I don’t eat much when it’s not my tab I have to worry about.” Chris spoke, rubbing his hands together, with a menacing laugh, all the while he stares down Matt. Smiling to yourself, you know Matt’s going to punch Chris when he sees the bill. “Hi, Matt. Ready for dinner?” I say in his direction. He eyeballs me through the mirror, taking turns looking at the road, then me. “Mhm.” His throat vibrates out. Hm. He must be getting into character already. You shrug and spark up a conversation with Nick and Chris. Once arrived at the Steakhouse, you all shuffle in and pick your seats. Matt goes on the opposite side of the table, across from Nick. Pulling the chair out from the table for you, expecting you to sit next to him, and Chris to sit with Nick, you decline again. You plop down right next to Chris, taking Nick’s usual spot. Furrowing his eyebrows, Matt stops and stares at you. With a blank look on his face, not taking his eyes off you, “Nick, sit next to me.” Leaves Matt’s lips. Nick puts his hands up and nods, sitting down next to him. Matt takes his seat still with his eyes locked on you. Staring back, not intimidated by him, you smile and make sure everyone has a menu. “Okay…” Chris says, breaking the tension between the Matt and I. “Yeah, what’s the deal?” Nick pipes in. “Nothing! I’m totally cool. I’m excited for tonight, I’m hungry and I’m with my best friends. Besides, it’s all on Matt, tonight.” A smirk creeping onto your lips. Nick and Chris giggle, while Matt is still monotone. Just before anyone can say anything else, a waitress stops by to take the tables order. “Hi there, welcome in! what can I get started for drinks for you all?” She says, pulling out her pen and notepad. “I’ll take an ice water with lemon. Thanks sweetheart.” Matt says smiling, looking from her straight to you, but dropping the smile. “Uh, yeah. We’ll do 3 more of those. Thanks!” Nick quickly says, hurriedly getting the waitress away from the table. You look at Matt, biting your lip almost laughing in disbelief. Looking back at your menu, skimming all the possibilities, the waitress appears with the lemon water and some bread and butter. As she’s setting them down on the table, she takes her hand and caresses Matt’s shoulder. Watching his every move from behind your menu, you roll your eyes. “Thanks again, sweetheart.” Matt repeats, this time with more of a flirtatious tone. Two can play at this game. Ignoring them and rescanning the menu, Chris leans over next to you- “Oh, by the way, you look very pretty tonight. You clean up nice, kid.” He says, innocently. You look up from your menu and glance at Matt, then turning to Chris. “Aww thanks Chris. That’s so sweet of you. I must say you’re looking rather handsome yourself.” You wink at him, bringing your hand up to his face just underneath his chin, giving his cheeks a little squeeze. You blow a kiss at him, then bring your eyes back to Matt. Anything goes when you role play. You can tell he’s seething in his chair. Trying not to make it obvious that it clearly had an effect on him. “I’ll be right back you guys, I’m going to the bathroom.” You excuse yourself and head to the ladies room. Once you find the bathrooms, you head in. Looking in the mirror, thinking to yourself this is not how tonight is supposed to go. In an instant the bathroom door flies open. Matt enters, locking the door behind him. “What the fuck was that?” He says harshly. Almost anything goes when you role play.

Playing dumb, you respond. “What was what, sweetheart?” Matt is two inches from your face. “You know what.” Sternly and not holding back, he gets even closer. “I pick you up, and you get in the back? We get here, you don’t sit next to me? Now you’re out there getting cute with Chris?” His chest is now touching yours. Not saying a word, you just look up at him. “He might look like me, but he can’t fuck like me.” Matt says brazenly. Your cheeks burn. Your core is on fire. Staring into his eyes, his pupils widen, getting darker by the second. Trying to slow your breathing down, you shrug. “Turn around. Now.” Matt flips you around, both of you looking at yourselves in the mirror. His dick outlined through his pants, grazing your ass. You softly moan to yourself. “Don’t make a sound unless I fucking tell you to.” Matt replies. Pressing his hand on your back, he pushes your chest to the cold counter. Matt brings his hands up your thighs to the buttons on your dress. In a motion he tears at your dress, buttons flying everywhere. All you can do is stare at him. “Good girl.” He breathes out. Pulling up your dress to the small of your back, exposing your ass and glistening pussy. “No panties? And you’re already soaked? I haven’t even touched you. You’re such a slut for me.” Dropping to his knees, he’s face first with your core. He drags his thumb up and down your cunt. Standing back up behind you, he shoves his finger in his mouth, licking it clean. Unbuckling his pants with one hand, they fall to the floor. Without warning, he shoves his cock deep inside you with no time to adjust. “Matt!” You yell out, forgetting what he just said. “Shut the fuck up.” He grits through his teeth. Matt takes his hands and wraps them around your throat, slightly squeezing each time you make a noise. Holding onto the sink, you could feel his rage with each stroke. Tears forming in the corner of your eyes from the pain, yet pleasure he’s enduring on your tight little pussy. “Don’t you ever think about sitting next to anyone else but me. Don’t ever touch anyone else but me. Next time, I’ll fuck you in front of them. Show them what’s mine.” The sound of moans and his hips slapping against your ass is definitely loud enough to hear from outside the bathroom. “Who fucks you like this, huh? Whose pussy is this.” Matt grabs ahold of your face, lining it up with the mirror. Watching him use you, sliding his cock in and out, making you take him deeper and deeper with every breath he breathes. Looking him in the eyes, you whisper out through tears “It’s yours, Matthew. This is your pussy.” A moan leaves your lips. Eyes rolling in the back of your head. Speeding up his thrusts, he’s hate fucking you, you can barely form a sentence. “Matt, I can’t take it-“ Throwing your head back. Matt grabs your hips, guiding your body with his slams into you. Clenching his member with your walls, you wish he could be buried in you forever. Your wetness leaking down your legs, hoping that he will lick it up afterwards. “Gonna fuck my load right into that cunt of yours. You’re gonna take every last drop.” His voice was dark. His thrusts began to slow, but he was still in control. Pumping in and out of you once more, he came in an instant. Matt pulled out and immediately crouched down, staring at your sweetly filled pussy. Watching his cum drizzle out of you, he took two of his fingers and stuffed it right back inside, swirling it around. Once he was satisfied, he brought his fingers up to your lips and shoved them in. Observing you suck the conjoined juices off his fingers, made him ready to fuck you again. Matt placed a sweet kiss on your lips and fixed your dress. Buckling his pants and running his hand through his hair, he grabbed your hand. “Let’s go baby, we have a dinner to ever back to.” He smiled back at you. Almost like he didn’t just fuck you senseless in your favorite Steakhouse’s bathroom. Walking out hand in hand from the women’s restroom, you get back to the table.

“Nick, do you mind if I trade seats with you?” You say, still holding onto Matt’s hand. Nick stands up and lets you sit, scooting the chair in for you. Chris and Nick both look at you and Matt, and then back at each other, laughing. “What?” Matt scoffs. “Oh nothing, just wondering if you love birds squashed the beef you had, or if you needed to go back to the bathroom for round 2?” Chris cackled. “Oh my god, you heard that?” You gasped. I mean you knew, but you didn’t want to believe it. “Oh sweetheart, everyone heard it.” Nick added. Rolling your eyes while giggling to yourself, Matt leans over to you. “I’ll be ready for round two when we get home.”

♡

hiiiiiii…,,,,,,,, so I feel like I got sloppy at the end. >:-( ! anyways hope this was good enough 4 u anon <3 thank u 4 requesting this. Let me know anything yall want me to make come to LIFE! Mwah 💋

#fruitglazed #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolos #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher owen sturniolo #nicolas antonio sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x you #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader

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badbtssmut · 4 months

Text

Your boyfriend Namjoon teaches his three virgin friends how to please you and fuck you properly.

Contains: Getting fucked in front of maknae line, free use girlfriend, fingering, riding, missionary, from behind, Namjoon explaining sex, maknae line watching, blowjob

Legs spread with your pussy on display in front of the three men, you sat on your boyfriend’s lap. Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung watched with full attention as Namjoon spoke.

“Now that you’ve gotten her wet, you can push your fingers in, and move them like this. Just the first knuckle for now, so she gets used to it, then slowly push in more. But keep up the stimulation on her clit…” He demonstrated, causing you to let out a soft moan as he started to pump them in and out. “Keep a steady pace, if she’s making noises like this, she likes it.”

This was so messed up, but so hot at the same time.

After the three guys learned everything there was about getting you wet, Namjoon lifted you up and took you to the bed, placing you on it. You were already naked and they all followed.

Namjoon pulled down his pants, his long cock already hard and standing. He was so big, you were always surprised you managed to fit him inside of you. “To get the best blowjobs, make sure she goes down slow. She needs time to get used to it. And be careful with her, because she has a very sensitive gag reflex. So don't push too far into her mouth and make sure she doesn't choke. If she starts gagging and can't handle it, pull out, and try again.” Namjoon held onto his cock, giving it a few pumps before positioning himself in front of your mouth, his tip tapping your lips. You opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out. Namjoon slowly slid in, holding the back of your head and guiding you.

Your mouth was wrapped around his thick length, his tip reaching the back of your throat. You breathed through your nose, trying to stay relaxed as Namjoon began to gently rock his hips. You sucked lightly, hollowing your cheeks and looking up at him.

Your eyes glanced over at the three boys, who were watching intently. You moaned, the vibrations running through Namjoon's cock. You bobbed your head up and down, taking in more of him every time. His hips snapped faster and you relaxed your throat, letting him thrust into your mouth.

After a few minutes, Namjoon pulled out of your mouth. “Now I will show you how to penetrate her properly. We start with missionary, since it's a comfortable position for both of you. Spread your legs for me, baby. That's a good girl, you're doing so well.” He praised you which gave you butterflies.

Namjoon grabbed your thighs, pulling you closer. “If this position is too hard, you can grab a pillow and put it under her hips, the angle might be easier.” Namjoon placed his tip at your entrance, pausing. “Take a look, this is where you put it in.” The guys gathered around the bed, Jimin to your left and Taehyung and Jungkook to your right. “Now, I'm going to start slow and gentle. Don't put it all in at once. Start with just the tip, then slowly push in more. Keep her relaxed with the stimulation, so you don't hurt her. If you go in too fast, it'll be extremely painful for her, so be careful.”

Namjoon pressed his tip into your hole, then slowly slid it in until his entire head was engulfed by your core. He waited a minute before pushing in a little more. “It’s normal if you feel some resistance at first, just keep pushing in slow, and she will stretch for you. Once it's all the way in, wait for her to adjust, and you can start moving your hips.” And so he did, slowly rocking his hips.

The three boys watched in awe as Namjoon started pumping his cock in and out, faster and faster. His hands rested on your hips, pulling you to meet his thrusts. Your breathing got heavy as he fucked you, your walls squeezing around him.

“Mmm…” You moaned, your head turning to the left, and your hand gripping the blanket. Your eyes met Jungkook’s, and he couldn't take his eyes off of you. He was completely entranced by your body, watching your breasts bounce, your hips roll and your face scrunch up in pleasure. He wanted to make you feel good, too. You looked away from him, not sure if he’d feel uncomfortable.

Namjoon leaned down, kissing you deeply. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close. He pounded into you, his movements quick and rough.

“Yes, yes…” You whined, your eyes falling closed as you felt your muscles tense. Namjoon was hitting the right spot, and you were almost there.

He knew you were close, and he slowed down, pulling himself away. He took a deep breath before he spoke up. “You need to read her, watch her facial expressions, listen to the noises she’s making, how her body is responding to you, don’t worry, I’m sure it will come natural to you guys, play around a bit, see what she likes.” Namjoon carried you over to the couch, setting you down on his lap.

“We can ride two ways, either her facing you, or her facing away. They both feel good, but if she’s facing you, you can kiss her, and touch her breasts. It feels more intimate. I'm going to lift her up, and put her on my cock. Watch carefully, I'll go slow and show you how to do it.”

Namjoon's hands held you, one on your ass and the other on your waist. He lifted you up, and aligned his tip with your entrance. You sank down onto him, moaning at the feeling of being filled. He set a slow pace, thrusting up into you as you bounced on his lap. His fingers ran up your back, and you arched into him, your back pressed against his.

“You can either thrust up into her, or let her do the riding, babe, can you show them?” Namjoon asked, kissing your neck and shoulder.

You nodded, rolling your hips back and forth. His cock hit all the right spots, and your breathing was coming out fast and heavy. You moved up and down, riding his cock. His hands ran down your sides, and grabbed your breasts, squeezing and massaging them.

“Namjoon…” You whimpered, and he knew what you needed. He reached between your legs and pressed his thumb against your clit, rubbing it in circles.

“Hyung? Can you show us how to do it from behind too?” Jimin asked, and Namjoon looked at him, nodding.

You were brought back to the bed, and you knew what to do. You got on all fours and waited for Namjoon to enter you.

“You can either do it anal or vaginal. I don’t recommend anal for the first time, because it takes more preparation.” He pushed into you. “Because I already fucked her, I don’t need to go slow with inserting my cock anymore.”

Namjoon gripped onto your hips, fucking into you hard and fast. His hands were holding you in place, so you didn't move from him thrusting. He hit all the right places, and his pace was just right. You moaned loudly, burying your face in the pillows.

The guys watched intently, and they couldn’t look away. The sight of your naked body was amazing, and they were completely mesmerized.

They were so turned on by your sounds and movements, it was driving them crazy. They wanted to make you feel like this, too. They were eager, and couldn’t wait any longer.

“Harder…” You begged, and Namjoon was happy to oblige, giving it his all. His pace was ruthless, his hands gripping tightly onto your waist.

You were close, and after a few more thrusts, you came hard, moaning and shuddering. Namjoon was right behind you, and his seed shot out into you, filling you. He pulled out and sat back, trying to catch his breath.

After the ‘tutorial’ the boys went home, cocks hard after watching you get fucked, but eager to have their turn with you soon.

#bts smut #bts requests #bts x reader #bts smut requests #bts fanfic #bts smut fanfic #taehyung smut #jungkook smut #namjoon smut #Jimin smut #maknae like smut #bts x female reader #bts x fem!reader

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yanderestarangel · 5 months

Text

TW: hard dom!tomas, v!sex, degradation, overstimulation, rough sex, smut, dirty talk, pussy drunk!tomas, afab anatomy, ftm reader, eat out, painkink, breedkink, praise kink, creampie, porn plot, light soft aftercare in final cut .

You tried to close your legs once again, it had been hours since Tomas fucked you, eating out with his tongue connected to your pussy, he couldn't get enough of your taste, your moans and how sensitive you were for him — begging him to stop because he was going to cumming again, you were a crying, shaking mess, barely able to feel your legs, your knees were shaking as you stared at the ninja lin kuei's blue orbs — his tongue darted in and out of your sensitive, reddened flesh, smoke licked and licked each sweet juice coming out of your little cunt. "-So tight... so perfect." He moaned, his voice vibrating and making you cry out even more.

"-Are you already crying like a pathetic slut? How cute." Tomas whispered before deliciously capturing one of your nipples between his teeth, sucking and biting gently as he sent goosebumps across your skin, as he did so he began to rub his length into your wet pussy, sliding it up and down slowly at first, causing you both to moan horny.

Eventually, he positioned himself at your entrance, advancing forcefully but carefully. You gasped as he entered you completely, making you whimper and hold onto him tightly.

"-Oh fuck- you're a fucking cocksleeve." Your tight entrance gripped him tightly as your pussy contracted around his member, milking him for more—pounding you relentlessly, he grabbed both of your legs, spreading them further apart. Smoke's powerful fingers dug into your thighs as his hips moved in sync with his thrusts.

"-Do you like being treated like a prostitute?" Vrbada growled, slapping your ass hard enough to leave a red mark. "-That's it, my little whore. Just a needy hooker for me..." You moaned loudly, your nails digging into the sheets as you arched your back, begging for more, crying in pain and pleasure, feeling the weight of your body of Tomas totally into you.

His hand slid down, grabbing your ass firmly, squeezing and slapping rhythmically, sending even more pain and lust through your senses, he consumed every reaction on your face, how desperate you were from the rough sex, you heard the wood of the bed broke, but Vrbada didn't care about the pieces falling to the floor with each movement.

"-That's a good boy... You’re strong, I know you can take it for me..." From behind you, his hand reached down between your spread legs, rubbing circles around your sensitive clitoris mercilessly. His fingers slid inside you, massaging your sweet expertly as he drove deeper into your core. Your walls constricted tightly around him, milking every drop of cum from his balls.

"-Do you like being my dirty little slut, I know you love it;" Smoke teased between harsh breaths. "-Moaning loudly like that, telling everyone how much you want this filthy treatment, Take all of me. Let me fill you up to the brim." He trapped your thighs with his muscular thighs, each brutal thrust sent waves of pleasure running through your body, making you scream his name over and over again.

Tomas could no longer resist the urge; his orgasm was quickly approaching — babbling about how he was going to breed inside your little hole, showering even more praise for you — when he felt close to climax, he withdrew his shaft almost completely before plunging back inside you, filling -a to the edge, you screamed his name, begging for more while tears rolled down your cheeks, leaving trails on your face. Your pussy clenched around him tightly, milking him for every drop of pleasure, making him cum faster than he ever thought possible, he held your body in place, as he watched you shake and cry from the intense act.

"-Shhh... It's okay, I got you baby, shhh... Calm down." After several moments, Tomas slowly regained control of his breathing and slowly withdrew from your overstimulated hole, his cum came out and soiled your skin even more, running from your pussy to your ass — leaning over you, he gave a soft kiss on your forehead.

"-I love you more than anything, I'm nothing without you."

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

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cottonconnielvr · 10 months

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Miguel Ohara who has a City girl girlfriend! who LOVES going out with her bestfriends but she be testing him with the outfits she be wearing I’m talkin bout titties popping, ass out, outfits and like one night she goes too far, and like he fucks her..

Yeah. 🤷🏾‍♀️

PAIRINGS ✩ — miguel o’hara x black!hyperfem!reader

WARNINGS ✩ — drunk!reader, tummy bulge,edging, smut stuffff, didn’t proofread so excuse mistakes xx

THE sound of the City Girls blared from Miguel’s phone. His thumb pressed down on the phone, pausing your story. Your 24 inch black straight hair laid down your back. Your boobs were on the verge of falling out of your dress, your cuban link chain glistened under the light of the flash. He lifted his thumb up, allowing the video to continue playing. He watched as your friends shows your body all off to the camera, your ass cheeks hanging out and all. He can see the tattoo of his last name on the underside of your ass cheek, followed by the scar of where he first ever bit you.

He asked for you to not go out tonight, not in the mood to be defending the city at night and worried about his girlfriend who couldn’t stay away from a good time.

He clicked and clicked through videos, you chugging a drink down with your bestfriend, some random guy doing the worm to Poundtown, tons of angles of you singing R&B songs.

The next video was what set him off – you needed to come home now. You were drunk and giggling, bent over a stool as your best-friend took a jell-o shot off of your ass. A few college boys were recording as well, horny as hell.

Miguel was already fed up with you, your outfit being way too revealing.

You could wear whatever you wanted of course but, showing others what’s his..? Nah. Not gonna slide. He finds it amusing, he’s paralyzed you so many times with his dick, you’d think you’d be able to respect his wishes. But you just had to disobey him.

He spammed your phone with multiple calls that went to voicemail, many replies to your story, and many imessages.

Meanwhile, you just pulled up to another club with a bigger group than you arrived with. At this point you were fucked up, shaking your ass anytime you bent over. You were feeling a bit horny tho, missing your strong man so much.

“Ughhhh I miss my mannn” You dramatically throw your head back.

“Um speaking of your man he’s been blowing your phone up for like 30 mins” You best friend laughs as she nodded her head to the muffled music playing from outside the club.

“Oh oh oh! Where is my phone” You frantically looked around you, turning the flash on your phone to see the dark…. wait the flash on your phone?You looked up at your right hand, giggling at the coincidence. You were holding your phone the hold entire time.

“Man am I wasted!?” You asked out loud, walking into the club cheering with a random burst of energy. You immediately walked to the bar, Latch by Disclosure playing loudly. Your phone vibrated once again as you sat at the bar.

BIG DICK🧛🏽

11:35 PM

Bring your ass home.

Right now Y/N i’m not playing.

11:43 PM

Answer your phone.

I told you not to go out.

Answer.

12:31 PM

Okay Y/N.

Omw.

READ 12:56 AM

Oh fuck.

He was on his way like right now. You scrambled to check his location, it took a couple seconds to reload. Just then it refreshed, his contact picture right on top of your best-friends location.

“Let’s go” A deep voice rumbled into your ear.

“Mig-” Your whines were cut off when your arm was snatched up by Miguel. “Wait” You followed behind as he dragged you out of the club.

“Ba-by wait..” You tried to come up with an excuse. You thought Miguel had a mission for the night and you meant to hide him from your story.

“Get in the car and shut up Y/N” Miguel opened the passenger door. You shut your mouth, knowing that if you just listen, you’re punishment wouldn’t be as harsh.

Miguel walked to the other side of the car, opening his door but his movements halted when you whispered out something inaudible.

“What?” Miguel looked over at you with anger. “I left my .. purse with B/N (bestfriend name)… and it’s like designer… can you get it?” You looked over at him with teary eyes. Miguel just started at you for a moment, you’re gonna kill him.

He sucks in a deep breath before getting out of the car, closing the door to go get your purse.

He soon came back to you sleeping in the passenger seat, shaking his head.

Thirty minutes later, you’re getting carried bridal style. Miguel carried your heels,purse, and the house key in one hand. His other hand firmly holding your weight.

He swung the penthouse door closed with his foot, taking you to the bedroom. “Mig?” Your pouty whiney voice called out. “Go ahead and rest mama, you’ll be up allll night tomorrow”

“Mhmmph” You muffled out into Miguel’s shoulder as he pounded his lower half into you. “F-fuck! Fucking gripping me” Miguel hissed as you clenched against him. “Harder” You pant out, body getting squished into the mattress.

“Harder baby? Yeah?” He smiled down at you, such a fucking whore.

This was originally supposed to be punishment for last nights actions but, knowing Miguel he can’t resist you.

“Yeah” You smile back at him before your eyes rolled back as he delivered a punch to your cervix. “Ahh..shitt” Miguel moaned out as he could feel himself so deep in you. He looks down to the bulge that appears everytime he thrusts inside you. “Feel me ma? I’m right here s-shit” Miguel presses his hand on the bulge.

“I’m cummingg” You tapped his arm, clenching around his hard length. “Not yet pretty” He slid out of you. “You were bad remember” He sickly smiled down at you.

“Nooo” You whine out in frustration, “M’sorryyy I told you this!”

“Prove it to me that you deserve it then” Miguel say up against the headboard, dragging you on top of him. Your hand stroked up and down his cock before you slid down onto him.

“Fuck” You whimpered in unison. You placed your hands on his shoulders, breathing heavily. “C-can’t move”

“Yes you can pretty girl. You can take it cariño” He placed a kiss on your chin before slowly moving you up and down. You followed his guidance, throwing your head back in pleasure. “Just like that mama,” He lets go of your waist and slapped your ass before growling out, “Good girl”

“Make us cum and maybe i’ll forgive you”

#miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel x you #miguel o’hara x black reader #miguel o’hara spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099

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taexual · 4 months

Text

sleepwalking ● 16 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers

warnings: fluff (if you squint really really hard), ANGST, strong language, explicit descriptions of violence & the process of cleaning wounds, mentions of loss of consciousness, SLOW BURN

words: 12.2k

read from the beginning ○ masterlist

chapter 16 ► i’m still your favourite regret, you’re still my weapon of choosing

The performance in Cologne the next day passed by in a blur. Jungkook refused to speak to anyone and only opened his mouth when it was absolutely necessary during the sound check—and even then, most of his vocabulary consisted of grunts or monosyllables.

He wouldn’t have called it sulking—he would have called it existential sorrow—but from the perspective of those around him, that was what this was.

He had dreamed of a happy ending with you. Now, he feared there would be no ending at all. He feared you’d leave and your goodbye would come in a letter. Or maybe just a farewell email.

“I had a wonderful time working with you and I wish you all the best for the future,” would be the last thing you’d write. The last thing you’d say.

You’d leave and he would never see you again.

Although he didn’t talk to you, Jungkook watched you a lot. The band had to do some interviews backstage before the Cologne show, and you were in the room with them, behind the camera. He counted, you only looked at him once.

After the concert, Jungkook took a long shower, but it could not drown his fears. When he returned to the hallway outside the dressing rooms, he saw that the post-show drinks were already finished and everyone had returned to the bus. He’d hoped that would happen. He needed a few more minutes alone.

He entered the changing room with a towel draped over his shoulders and quickly changed his shorts into sweatpants. Just as he pulled his hoodie over his head—somewhat laboriously, as his arms were still damp from the shower—he heard something vibrating against the leather couch in the room.

Confused, he pulled the hoodie on and walked over to the couch. He didn’t recognise the phone, but Taehyung was calling it, so chances were good that the device belonged to Luna. He made a mental note to bring it to her and placed it back on the couch while he packed the rest of his things.

He had just unzipped his bag when he heard the door open and turned his head. His expectant heart immediately jumped over several beats at the possibility that this was you.

But it was the furthest thing from you.

It was Sid.

Sid had many useless, irritating talents, but always finding Jungkook when he was alone, was his most impressive one.

Jungkook started to roll his eyes even before Sid spoke up, but that didn’t deter the older boy from entering the room.

“You’ve been ignoring us the whole day,” Sid said, closing the door behind him. “Well, I don’t care if you ignore everyone else. But you’ve been ignoring me, and I can’t allow that.”

Jungkook threw his jeans and shorts into the bag.

“That is so kind,” he said without looking up. “Did you miss me that much?”

“I did,” Sid said, and even without looking at him, Jungkook knew he had his usual psychotic grin on. Leaning against the dressing table, Sid added, “the clock’s tick-tick-ticking.”

“If you don’t leave me alone right now,” Jungkook retorted, unplugging his charger and packing it, too, “my foot is going to be kick-kick-kicking your ass.”

Sid merely snorted at the threat. “You’re very hostile, you know? It’s just a bet.”

Jungkook scoffed.

He remembered hoping that Sid would eventually forget about the bet if no one mentioned it. How very naive he had been. Sid would never forget. He was like a hateful elephant in this case—he had a flawless memory for anything that benefited him and was constantly at the centre of attention in any room he was in, making it impossible to escape his presence.

Jungkook couldn’t believe that he had once clung to the Katana so tightly that he didn’t even consider the possibility of losing the bet as soon as he made it. It seemed absurd now. What did he want to prove? Nothing made sense to him anymore.

“Is it? Really? Just a bet?” he rebutted, moving closer to Sid with each question. “Because when I told you I wanted to end it, you acted like we signed a fucking contract.”

Sid shrugged, his indifference as irritating as it was insincere.

“A bet’s still a bet,” he replied. “You’ve got to keep your word.”

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook turned around and grabbed his hairdryer from the table. They had already argued about this before. He didn’t have the energy to keep doing it, and he still had things to pack.

“Get fucked, Sid.”

“Come on,” Sid said, clearly expecting a more grandiose response from him. “You keep saying that. But I’m willing to talk to you here. Tell me what happened.”

Jungkook glared at him through his peripherals. “What the fuck do you mean, what happened?”

“Well, you were acting so bold and confident before,” Sid said in a breathy voice, presumably to imitate Jungkook’s manner of speaking. “You were sure you’d get back together, no problem.”

“No,” Jungkook countered, straightening up. “I was sure we could go on a date, no problem. That was the extent of the bet for me.”

It was bad enough, he knew. But he couldn’t move forward if he didn’t own up to it.

“Aww.” Sid tilted his head sideways and pursed his lips to feign sympathy. “But you couldn’t even do that...”

“I fucking—okay,” Jungkook stopped when he felt his agitation grow. There was a voice in his head—very similar to yours—reminding him that Sid wasn’t worth it. “Get out. I’m serious.”

“Was that all talk?” Sid continued as if the younger boy hadn’t spoken. “Admit it, and maybe we’ll come to a different agreement about the bet.”

“Get,” Jungkook said, gritting his teeth, “out.”

Sid clicked his tongue, but the pleasure that this interaction brought him was prominent in his eyes. Antagonising Jungkook was his favourite part of the day.

“Predictable,” he said. “It seems I overestimated you, after all.”

“What the fuck are you on about now?”

“Well, you know,” Sid continued to spin his webs around Jungkook. “You and your manager. I thought you’d win the bet for sure.”

Raising an eyebrow, Jungkook asked, “yet you still agreed to it?”

Sid’s eye twitched slightly—Jungkook felt a great sense of satisfaction at the sight; it wasn’t often that Sid was forced to question his own logic, however momentarily—but he recovered too quickly.

“I like to gamble.” He shrugged. “What can I say?”

“You can shut up,” Jungkook suggested.

“However, you didn’t manage to do it,” Sid went on. “And I have to say, I am genuinely surprised. Not about you, no. I always knew you were pathetically in love with her, that’s just who you are. No offence, just the truth, really. But she’s just—I mean, come on.” He paused to laugh, one hand on his stomach as if he found himself so amusing that he needed to keep his guts from spilling out. “You fluttered your eyelashes at her once, and she went to Paris with you. She’s that fucking easy.”

Jungkook felt the room still as he lifted his gaze from Sid’s stomach to his eyes.

“What?” he asked.

“Oh, you know what I mean.” Sid’s grin was about as wide as the distance from this venue to the nearest hospital, where Jungkook thought he was about to send him.

Sid pushed himself off the table he’d been leaning against and walked over to the rack of clothes next to the couch. Jungkook watched him, stiff and belligerent.

“I thought she was keeping you on a short leash. And don’t blame me. I mean, you always ran after her as soon as she called,” the older boy continued, laughing with a little shake of his head—as if in disbelief. He turned and leisurely strolled back towards Jungkook. “But she—I mean, I get the feeling she doesn’t like me very much, but even I could have taken her out if I wanted to. Honestly, man, I’m surprised you couldn’t do it. She’s that specific type—you know the one—where she’ll say yes to anyone if they just put in enough effort—”

Jungkook’s punch landed right on the side of Sid’s mouth, cutting him off.

Something in Sid’s neck cracked as the blunt force twisted his head to the side. The corner of his mouth was bleeding, but he still had an almost defiant look in his eyes when he turned back to Jungkook. The tips of his fingers were painted scarlet when he pulled them back from his lips.

“I fucking warned you,” Jungkook growled while Sid continued to stare at his hand. “Get your ass out of here right fucking now or I swear they’ll have to carry you out of here in a fucking box.”

Sid spat the blood from his mouth on the floor and glared at Jungkook.

“That the best you can do?” he challenged. “Huh? Maybe that’s why you couldn’t even get someone like her to—”

Jungkook raised his fist again, but Sid had already been anticipating it. He pushed Jungkook’s hand back with his forearm, knocking the younger boy off balance for a moment—it was then that he landed a punch on Jungkook’s left cheekbone.

A sharp pain surged through the side of his face, but Jungkook was wide awake and furious.

In less than a second, he noticed Sid swinging back again—Sid had always been strong but slow—and Jungkook blocked his blow with his left wrist and rammed his shoulder into Sid’s chest, pushing him into the wall and wrapping an arm around him. The older boy thrashed and squirmed with raging strength until he freed one of his hands.

Jungkook tried to pin Sid’s left arm against the wall—he was left-handed if barely even that—but, being the massive pile of unbelievably lucky crap that he was, Sid managed to use his right fist to reach the boy restraining him.

Sid’s unexpected southpaw caught Jungkook just as he was lowering his head to avoid the blow from the older boy’s dominant hand—and his right fist connected with the side of Jungkook’s head, between his eye and temple.

“You’re f-fucking embarrassing,” Sid snarled, bloodied and breathless, as Jungkook staggered backwards, dazed from the blow. “Weak fucking piece of sh-shit. Birds of fucking feather, you two—both fucking worthless and—”

Sid inhaled quickly before finishing his sentence—but then he ended up not even finishing his breath.

Aggravated and filled with raw adrenaline, Jungkook delivered a furious uppercut, his fist colliding solidly with Sid’s chin. The older boy was propelled backwards by the force—Jungkook heard the thud as his head hit the wall.

Already groaning, Sid was determined to fight back—never mind that the room was spinning—but Jungkook took advantage of the moment while Sid’s vision was still cloudy and pinned him against the wall with his full weight.

“I thought I told you to shut the fuck up,” he hissed, pressing his forearm against Sid’s neck.

Choking, Sid immediately grabbed Jungkook’s arm to push him off, but Jungkook had a clear strength and fury advantage. He did not budge as the older boy resisted him.

Sid knew this wasn’t a good look for him—he could feel that if Jungkook pushed his forearm into his neck any harder, he’d lift him off the ground. Unable to breathe, the older boy paled, but his eyes were black with rage.

“Face the fff-fuh-fucking facts. You’re weak,” Sid wheezed, livid. There was blood in his mouth and something else that rolled around his tongue when he spoke. “And she’s a f-fucking—”

“One more fucking word,” Jungkook warned, pressing his arm harder into Sid’s throat—the other boy couldn’t even look at him anymore, his head was pushed too far back, “and you’ll have to be fucking dissected to find out what the fuck happened to you.”

Sid gasped for breath but refused to stop speaking. “I—unf—f-fucking—”

“What the fuck—” a shrill, startled voice demanded from behind the two boys, “—is going on?!”

Jungkook jumped—Sid felt his arm shove deeper into his throat and let out a half-stifled cry—and turned to see Luna standing wide-eyed in the doorway of the changing room.

He tore himself away from Sid, who dropped his hands to his knees, panting and clutching his throat before straightening again as though nothing was wrong. But his attempt to inhale properly resulted in another violent coughing fit. He bent over to spit out some blood and something else.

The two boys watched as a tooth rolled into the revolting mixture of spit and blood on the floor. Sid looked appalled as he reached for his mouth again, almost prepared to count all his teeth to check if he’d really lost one or if spare teeth were just something he carried around in his mouth without realising.

“Do I have to ask again?!” Luna cried, too shocked to make sense of what she had the unfortunate luck of interrupting.

“It’s okay, Luna,” Jungkook said, wiping his hands on his sweatpants. “Sid was just leaving.”

Sid glared at him, coughed again, and leaned in closer.

“All bark,” he hissed hoarsely. Jungkook could see the small gap next to Sid’s lower canine when he opened his mouth. “No bite.”

“Get fucked,” Jungkook said. “And pack your shit. Don’t come anywhere near me again or you’ll be eating through a fucking straw.”

He watched as Sid narrowed his eyes, fighting a battle within himself. Jungkook’s jaw was clenched, his fists ready to strike if he made another comment or exhibited any signs of even thinking about you.

Finally, Sid turned around and stormed out of the room. As soon as he walked down the corridor without so much as a glance at Luna, she went inside.

Still completely bewildered, she stopped abruptly in the middle of the room. The pool of blood was between her and Jungkook, and they both looked at it for a moment.

“What—” she began, then paused to suppress her disgust as she lifted her gaze from the floor to Jungkook. “What the hell happened here?”

He walked over to one of the cupboards by the window, searching for towels. He needed to clean this up or the venue would report the damages to you.

“Nothing,” he replied.

“You’re bleeding,” Luna said, stepping closer. Jungkook froze as she took one of the towels from him and reached up to his temple. “You’re bleeding so much, in fact, that you might need stitches.”

He shook his head—and then received a punch in the ribs from her. He yelped in surprise and learnt to stand still while she wiped the blood off.

“It’s fine,” he insisted. His temple throbbed with pain, but it still couldn’t compare to the sharp-edged emptiness that he’d felt all day.

“It’s not fine,” Luna said, pulling away. The towel was soaked with blood. Jungkook had to admit that he was surprised he was bleeding so much. Despite the sharpness of Sid’s fists, he had assumed that he’d been merely scratched. “Let me find—”

“No!” His eyes were wide in sudden panic. “Don’t—don’t bring her here. Actually, don’t tell her about the mess here at all. Please?”

Luna watched him for a moment, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion (was he serious?) and eyes bright with pity (what a shame to be so stupid).

“Jungkook,” she said patiently. “You’re going to have bruises all over your face. Probably even a black eye.”

He exhaled and looked down.

He knew he couldn’t keep this from you, but involving you now was the worst possible thing he could do. He was supposed to make things right.

“I know,” he said slowly, “but—I’m… I don’t want this to be another one of my messes that she has to clean up. That would definitely make her give up and go to Reconnaissance.”

Luna lowered her gaze, taking a moment to process the fact that Jungkook knew about the other band, but instead of the hysterics that everyone would have expected from him, he’d been rather composed all day today. Until he got into a fight with Sid, of course.

She tossed the towel onto the puddle of blood on the floor. She had no intention of cleaning it up herself, but she couldn’t stand to look at it.

“Well, have you considered not getting into this mess in the first place?” she asked then.

“Believe it or not, he started it,” Jungkook mumbled as he gathered more towels from the cupboard.

“Does that even matter now?”

Luna had to step back as he bent down to mop the floor. Some blood had already seeped into the wooden floorboards, but Jungkook scrubbed over the stain with the towel anyway.

“No,” he said, concentrating his irritation on the repetitive motions as he wiped the floor. “I guess not.”

“At least let me get some band-aids for you.” She looked around the room. There didn’t seem to be any first-aid kits here, but she had a few band-aids in her bag that she’d left in the waiting area outside. “Although I don’t know if that’s even enough.”

“It is enough,” Jungkook said. “I’m fine. He barely—barely touched me.”

Rolling her eyes and shaking her head, Luna turned to the door, muttering under her breath, “fucking boys.”

Jungkook couldn’t help a small smile.

“I heard that!” he shouted.

“I wanted you to!” she shouted back without turning around.

He chuckled, then winced at the sharp twinge in his temple. The adrenaline must have worn off, or the pain was getting stronger. He stopped scrubbing the floors, hoping to leave a message for the organisers and personally apologise for the mess later.

Then he crossed his legs on the ground and leaned his head against the wall. For just one second, he closed his eyes and rested.

He made a decision while he did.

He resolved to make sure that Sid wouldn’t come anywhere near him, Rated Riot, or you.

He finally realised that he had friends here—real friends. They had been here all along, the people who loved him. Hoseok, who took care of him when he was hungover. Yoongi, who tried to find help when he thought Jungkook was feeling a little too much. Taehyung, who didn’t leave even after Jungkook admitted how much he’d fucked up. And Luna, who looked about ready to physically beat some sense into him, but still stayed to help him with his wounds. Namjoon, Jimin, Seokjin, and Maggie, too—honestly, the entire team who laughed at his jokes, teased him and always supported him.

Although he was still worried about being alone with his thoughts, Jungkook knew he didn’t need Sid to fill the void. Now he wondered if Sid had always been the void he was trying to escape.

He was determined to prevent history from repeating itself. These people that he’d desperately wanted to call friends had already contributed significantly to your break-up once before, without him realising it.

Well, now he realised it. And he was going to fix it—all of it.

He could start by eliminating the reason why he kept making the same mistakes.

A minute later, Luna returned to the room. The sight of Jungkook sitting on the floor with his eyes closed made her look twice as she felt her heart drop in sudden anxiety.

She thought about turning around and looking for you, because you had a lot more patience to deal with this than she thought she did. But then, she knew that another argument was the last thing you or Jungkook needed right now.

She took a deep breath and approached him.

“Here,” she said as she grabbed another towel and squatted down next to him with the few band-aids that, frankly, seemed meagre when she saw the cuts and bruises on his face up close. “Let me help you.”

Jungkook had only briefly opened his eyes to look at her and then closed them again.

“Thank you,” he said as she wiped more blood from the side of his face before applying the band-aid. She didn’t mean to be gentle. She wanted him to understand how much he’d messed up. But her movements ended up being tentative and careful anyway.

“Don’t thank me,” she said, biting her lip as the blood immediately seeped through the band-aids. They would not hold; they both knew that. She sighed and pulled away from him. “She will see this. You will have to argue with her again. I can’t help you with that.”

He nodded his head once. “I know.”

Luna rose and walked over to the back of the room, considering this. She leaned her hip against the table and looked back at him.

“I don’t, um—okay. For what it’s worth,” she said, resting her hands on the table on either side of her. “I don’t think she’ll quit. Not even over this.”

“You really believe that?” Jungkook asked, opening his eyes. The hope in them was so bright that it was almost blinding.

Luna nodded. “She loves the band too much. Not even you can change that.”

He looked down. That would have to be good enough, he decided—just the fact that you would stay, even if it wasn’t for him. Even if it was despite him.

“I-I hope you’re right,” he said quietly.

“Okay, so now—” Luna jumped onto the table to take a seat, “—tell me what happened with Sid.”

Ordinarily, this would have been a long story. But Jungkook knew Taehyung might have made telling it a bit easier for him.

“Taehyung said you know about the bet?” he asked to be sure.

“Yeah. He told me back in Tilburg after he saw you leave with her to talk. Or, well, he assumed you would talk,” Luna explained. “In any case, you should be grateful that I know my strengths. Otherwise, I’d be punching you, too.”

Considering how much smaller than him Luna was, Jungkook smiled reflexively.

“I appreciate you not doing that,” he said with genuine respect.

“I’ve mentally kicked your ass, though.”

“Well, I deserve that, I guess.”

“So, this was about the bet, then?”

Jungkook sighed. He hadn’t technically allowed Sid to say any additional adjectives after he’d called you “easy,” but even this was too much. Jungkook wasn’t sure if he could talk about it without wanting to rip Sid’s eyes out and feed them to him.

“He was… just riling me up. He said some—some things,” he said, choosing a gentler word, even though several more appropriate expletives came to mind. “And he took it too far. Trust me, he deserved to get hit.”

“Oh, I trust you,” Luna said. “I just don’t think you should have been the one to hit him.”

Jungkook swallowed, feeling a metallic taste in his mouth. It didn’t bother him much. He’d tasted worse in the past few days.

“If I didn’t do it,” he said, “no one else would have.”

“Why are you so sure about that?” Luna asked, her voice less confident.

Most of what she knew about Jungkook and Sid came from questionable fan accounts she’d seen online—the stories she read were almost always outrageous, but now that she’d gotten to know Sid on this tour, she found those accounts much more plausible. Surely then, if Sid was this loathsome to everyone, someone was bound to deck him sooner or later.

“Everyone else is afraid of him,” Jungkook replied.

“And you’re not?” she asked.

The question felt mocking—even though it didn’t sound like that was Luna’s intention.

He thumped his head against the wall. “I don’t know anything anymore.”

The room was silent for a few minutes as Jungkook sat motionless, and Luna’s gaze kept wandering to the pile of towels on the bloodstained floor and then back to his resigned figure against the wall.

“Can I ask you something?” she said then.

His voice was tired. “Yeah.”

“Why did you make this bet in the first place?”

He inhaled, and a sharp, stabbing pain shot up from his lungs to his throat. It probably wasn’t a good sign, but he did not have the energy to worry about it at the moment.

He scratched the uninjured side of his face with his hand—his knuckles bruised and torn—and let his fingers linger there. It was a reflexive reaction, Luna observed, as he tried to hide from her. Or, rather, from her question.

“I don’t know,” he finally said. “Sid and Jude were getting in my head about how I was like some—I don’t know, pathetic. They made me feel like I was less of a person because I still had feelings for her.”

“Less of a person,” Luna said, “or less of an asshole that they seem to be trying—and succeeding—to be?”

Jungkook sighed, allowing the pins and needles to settle in his oesophagus. He wanted to say something but swallowed the answer with the bitter taste in his mouth.

“So, you made the bet to prove them wrong?” she asked in response to his silence.

“I—I don’t know,” he said again. He sometimes felt like he was a different person when he was with his friends. And now that he was determined to never see Sid again—but the repercussions of their friendship were still evident—Jungkook didn’t know who he really was anymore. “I think, at first, I agreed to the bet to prove a point.”

Luna raised her eyebrows. “But there was another reason?”

“Yeah, I think that… there was something else,” he said with a slow nod. “I realised later that I might have agreed to the bet because I wanted to win it. Not—not for the money, and not just to prove that I wasn’t pathetic. I just really—I wanted to go on that date with her. I wanted her. And the bet was—it was a kick in my ass to finally act on my feelings.”

Luna’s eyebrows suddenly dropped in disappointment and she turned away to hide her expression, even though Jungkook was too weary to lift his head and look up.

“There were better ways to act on them, you know,” she said. “Less painful ways, too.”

“Oh, I know,” he said with a wry smile. “Unfortunately, I’m fucked up.”

“You… you’re not fucked up,” she said, although to be honest, after learning about the bet, she thought he might be. But now that she saw how much his choices tormented him, she realised that he wasn’t all black and white. He was very, very grey. “You just did a fucked-up thing.”

Jungkook snickered weakly. “That’s nice of you to say. But I was always… I’d always been a problem.”

“Because of your friends?”

“Yeah—well, mostly, yeah. B-but she—” he paused here as another jolt of pain shot through his chest at the mention of you. He filled his lungs completely with another sharp intake of breath, then tried again. “She still—she still loved me. You know? I used to look at my friends and think I had nothing compared to them. But then I met her, and I—I had everything. I didn’t deserve her, but I—she was with me. She wanted to be with me. And she was the one good thing in my life. And I took that for granted. And now that I—now that we… anyway. I blew it. Now I really have nothing. Serves me right, I know. I just wish she wasn’t—I wish I hadn’t hurt her.”

Luna closed her eyes and sighed in response to the endless additions that Jungkook could not seem to control as he spoke.

She felt a little upset, she couldn’t help it. But she also felt a little giddy. She’d never heard Jungkook say these things about you, but she’d suspected that was how he felt all along.

However, she wasn’t one to make empty promises, especially when those promises were not within her control, so she could not say things like ‘you two will be fine’ or ‘you didn’t blow it.’

Honestly, she couldn’t find an appropriate response no matter how much she tried, so for a good minute, the two of them sat in silence.

Then, Jungkook finally raised his eyes from the ground. “Why’d you come here, by the way? I thought everyone was on the bus.”

Luna blinked, remembering suddenly.

“I left my phone here after the show,” she said, instinctively checking her pockets to make sure she really did not have it.

“Oh.” He pointed to the opposite side of the room. “I think I heard it vibrate. On the couch.”

“Ah.” She pushed herself off the table. “Thanks.”

He watched through his eyelashes as she picked up her phone. One of his eyelids was dropping and he was afraid to blink.

When Luna glanced at the screen—and probably saw the missed call from Taehyung—Jungkook said, “you should go.”

She turned around and took in the scene in the room once more.

It was miserable here. Jungkook looked miserable.

“I’m sorry I can’t say anything encouraging,” she said, biting her lip. “She’s my friend. And you’ve done a—well, this isn’t good.”

Jungkook nodded and swallowed, but it didn’t soothe his dry throat. “I know.”

“I’d like to help, but I—I’m always going to be on her side.”

“Of course. I understand.”

Luna sighed, because he had claimed he understood, but still looked as if happiness was a concept he’d never experienced in his life.

“I just—I don’t know what to tell you before I go,” she admitted. She knew she didn’t owe him anything, but leaving him here in this state didn’t feel right, either. She had always been compassionate, but the intensity of it surprised her this time. “I don’t know what she’ll do. A-about you, I mean. Not about Reconnaissance.”

Jungkook considered this. The side of his head felt torn and cracked. The poor band-aids were already dark red.

“What would you do?” he asked.

Luna raised her eyebrows at the abrupt question. “Me?”

“If you were her,” Jungkook explained. “Or if I were Taehyung.”

She licked her lips, taking a moment to choose her next words.

“Jungkook,” she said. “No offence, but Taehyung would never do something so stupid.”

A defeated, humourless smile appeared on his lips. “Yeah. You’re right. He wouldn’t.”

As soon as the tiniest glimmer of hope in his eyes dimmed, his voice sounded as if it was coming from somewhere underground.

God, Luna thought. Now the room was even more dreary.

Even though she was going to support whatever decision you would make about this, she couldn’t just leave without saying anything to him. Having no one on his side while he tried to redeem himself was unfair.

Advice, she figured, had to be the best thing she could offer him right now.

“Listen,” she said with a determined inhale. “I can’t judge what I would do if I were her because I don’t share her memories. I don’t know what happened between you all those years ago. Or even what’s happening now. But… if I were you, I’d give her some time.”

Jungkook nodded, looking at her with what he hoped was a grateful smile.

“Interestingly enough, that’s what your boyfriend told me,” he said.

“Yeah? Well, he gives great advice.”

The corners of his lips stretched further. “Matching set, you two.”

Luna slid her phone into her pocket and grabbed her bag, zipping up the pocket where she had kept the band-aids.

“Just be careful, okay?” she said. “We’re leaving for the airport soon, so don’t stay here too long. Don’t make her look for you. I’ll, um—I’ll try to do damage control.”

“Okay. Thank—”

Before Jungkook could finish, the door of the changing room opened wider, diverting their attention.

They both turned to look with very different expressions on their faces—Luna was already scowling, thinking that Sid had come back. Jungkook, on the other hand, appeared absolutely terrified, thinking that it was you, about to witness him sitting on the bloody floor—literally—with band-aids on his face.

“Oh,” a gasp left Minjun’s lips as he stopped in the doorway. “Sorry, I was—”

“It’s fine,” Jungkook said, immensely relieved. “You can come in.”

“Hold on,” Luna warned. Minjun remained frozen under her gaze. “Will I have to intervene? Because I think we’ve spilt enough blood already.”

Minjun raised his eyebrows. “Whose blood?”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Jungkook said to the girl. “Thank you, Luna.”

She watched the two of them for another minute until Jungkook nodded reassuringly again. Hesitantly, she nodded back and gave Minjun a pointed look.

“Okay. But you watch your hands,” she warned. “He has to be on stage tomorrow.”

“I—I mean no harm.” Minjun raised both hands, taken aback by her hostility. “I don’t know what happened here, but I’m—I come in peace.”

“Good,” Luna said with a firm nod. She glanced back over her shoulder at Jungkook. “I’ll see you later. Put some ice on your eye when you get back on the bus. It won’t do much for the colour, but it might help with the swelling.”

“Will do,” he said and called out as she exited the room, “thank you again!”

After Luna had left, Minjun entered the room and closed the door behind him. Only then he noticed the bloody towels and the dirty floor. Squinting, he leant forward a little and detected something else between the towels.

“So,” he said, straightening. “What the fuck happened and whose tooth is that on the floor?”

Jungkook snorted. “Sid’s.”

Minjun’s face lit up with childlike glee. “No fucking way! Did you do it?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook said with a grin that made him look vaguely menacing, considering how bruised and battered his face was.

“Awesome, man,” Minjun said, coming closer to pat him on the back before squatting next to him.

“He deserved it.”

“I don’t even care, to be honest. I’m impressed.”

“Yeah. Well.” Jungkook lifted a hand to gesture at his own face. “He’s landed some good ones, too.”

Minjun observed his bruises and the bloody band-aids that seemed quite small for a normal cut, but remained remarkably resilient on his fresh wounds.

“You’ll live,” he concluded.

Jungkook turned to him. A little awkwardly, he asked, “why, um… why are you here?”

“Ah.” Minjun reached into his pocket for something. “Here.”

Jungkook immediately recognised the keys to his Katana in his friend’s palm.

Speechless for a minute, he just stared at Minjun’s hand without moving. He had a feeling—against his better judgement—that this was a trap. That by taking the keys, he’d sign something else to the devil.

“What—?” he tried to ask.

“Take it,” Minjun urged, wishing to relieve himself of the unwanted weight of the keys in his hand.

“But the bet—”

“Fuck the bet,” he said, waving his palm up and down when Jungkook still didn’t reach for it. “It went too far.”

“Sid,” Jungkook began, hesitation and doubt evident in every centimetre of his face, “didn’t agree to this.”

“Yeah, and I’m sure Sid’s mother didn’t agree to give birth to a fucking clown, but shit happens,” Minjun countered. “Take the damn keys.”

Jungkook finally extended his shaking hand and felt the familiar cold metal under his fingertips. He paused before pulling back with the keys.

The Katana was his. But instead of relief, he felt a new weight in his chest.

“Why?” he asked, looking down at the key ring, adorned with a gaudy, jewelled pendant with the initials “JK.” It was a trinket you had bought him during a drunken escapade at a local fair. He still remembered your delighted squeal when you spotted the two letters in one of the jewellery stands.

“Because this is stupid and pointless,” Minjun said. His legs had gone numb, so he mirrored Jungkook’s position and sat down on the floor, leaning his back against the wall. “Some fucking bet is not worth ruining your relationship over.”

With a small smile on his face—because they were two miserable losers, hanging out on the floor of his band’s changing room—Jungkook clutched the keys and pushed them into his own pocket.

“Thank you,” he said.

“I’m sorry I didn’t do it earlier,” Minjun said. “I was afraid, I guess. Of what Sid would do if I went against his wishes. But then I… came to pick you up from that hotel bar in Tilburg—”

“That was you?” Jungkook cut him off. He had been wondering how he ended up back on the tour bus.

“Yeah,” Minjun replied. “You called me and asked to take the bike back to the rental shop because you couldn’t do it anymore. Man, I swear, I thought you were on some bridge, the way you phrased it.”

Jungkook looked away. He was not in a good place when he called his friend, and alcohol must have exaggerated it. “Sorry.”

“You still looked worse than I expected when I got there,” Minjun continued. “I thought I might have to take you to a hospital to have your stomach pumped, and I don’t fucking speak Dutch. Nor did I know where a fucking hospital was in Tilburg.”

Jungkook laughed at his rising tone, and Minjun smiled, too.

The smile turned ironic, however, when he added, “you threw up on my shoes.”

Jungkook, who never got drunk enough to experience a hangover the next day, let alone throw up, raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“I don’t remember that,” he said, meaning that it didn’t happen.

Minjun ignored the dismissive tone in his voice—he had a ruined pair of Converse to prove his accusation.

“Lucky you then,” he retorted. “You regained some colour after that, though. But you wouldn’t stop talking about her. It was like—like you couldn’t understand anything of what was happening, but you could still remember her. It hit me then, how little the bet really mattered. I mean, I always thought it was stupid, but that night, I—I saw what you were feeling. You regretted everything. I wanted to give you the keys right then, but you looked like you couldn’t recognise yourself in the mirror, so I just dropped you off on the bus. One of your—Hoseok was awake. He thanked me.”

Jungkook needed a minute to reflect on the conversation he’d had with Hoseok later that same morning.

“He didn’t tell me,” he said.

Minjun shrugged. “He had nothing to thank me for, anyway. I’m your friend. Sorry I didn’t act like it before.”

This was the first time that one of his friends had apologised to him, and Jungkook recognised the significance of the moment. He realised with blinding clarity that out of the three people he had invited as his personal guests on this tour, there was only one he truly wanted to stay here.

“Yeah,” Jungkook said, a little overwhelmed. “I’m—thanks for doing this now.”

Minjun nodded and the two of them shared a moment of comfortable silence. But Jungkook couldn’t quiet his thoughts—Sid wasn’t here, but he still couldn’t shake his presence.

“There was something that Sid said to me today,” he spoke up. “I-I think he likes her.”

“What?” Minjun was surprised. He glanced back at the tooth on the floor in front of him. “What’d he say?”

“He—just some shit.” Jungkook looked down and pulled on a loose thread on his sweatpants. “About how he could have convinced her to date him.”

Minjun blinked in another wave of surprise. He had a very different understanding of what Sid felt for you and Jungkook, but now he was confused.

“He’s just trying to get under your skin,” he tried to rationalise.

“No, but think about it,” Jungkook said. “Why else would he go to such great lengths to persuade me to participate in this bet? To force me to continue it after I’d clearly won?”

Again, Minjun needed a minute to find a response.

Jungkook clicked his tongue and looked away. “See, you can’t disagree.”

“I mean…” Minjun bit the corner of his lower lip. “I guess it makes sense, but—”

“I know that she wouldn’t consider him in a million years,” Jungkook added. “I’m not even thinking about that, I’m just… wow. How fucking stupid. He ruined this for himself and for me.”

His friend sighed. He didn’t want to keep talking about this. “Yeah.”

“And I let him,” Jungkook finished.

“Yeah,” Minjun repeated. “He deserved getting his tooth knocked out. And you deserve the swollen eye.”

Jungkook raised his eyebrows and puckered his lips. He wasn’t going to disagree, and Minjun smiled in relief when he saw the humour in his friend’s eyes.

This had to happen, Minjun thought. Jungkook wouldn’t have been able to move on if he had not found another way to prove that his own self—and his relationship with you—was the one thing he would never lose, no matter how hard Sid tried.

“What, um,” Jungkook asked after a minute, “what are you going to do when Sid asks about the keys after the bet is over?”

Minjun, feeling much more relaxed, merely shrugged. “Knock another one of his teeth out?”

Jungkook laughed and smacked his friend on the shoulder, despite the pain in his head when he moved.

“Oh, come on,” Minjun said, grinning. “He still has, like, fifteen left.”

“I’m sure he has more left. Implants or not.”

“Now, see, implants are harder to knock out. We’d have to meet and discuss the logistics of that. Perhaps attack in secret.”

Jungkook laughed again, and Minjun joined in, too.

They both felt significantly better.

However, Jungkook still had a lot of things to take care of as soon as he got up from the floor.

He should have told you about the bet earlier, but he hadn’t. All he could do now was make amends for a lapse in judgement with terrible consequences.

No.

There would be no consequences. He would make sure to never hurt you again.

And he’d begin by following through with his plan.

Jungkook asked Minjun to give him some time alone and found his phone in the pocket of his sweatpants. He dialled Seokjin’s number, and Seokjin referred him to the Head of Security on tour, Mick.

Mick was lovely. He fostered pets and looked after injured animals in his cabin on the edge of the forest, where he lived with his three dogs. Jungkook had visited him once and felt very much like he imagined Harry Potter to feel when he saw Hagrid’s hut for the first time.

Mick was also three times larger than Jungkook. His primary responsibility on tour was preventing intoxicated individuals from climbing onto the stage and ensuring trespassers did not decide to have an excursion on the band’s tour bus.

Now, Jungkook decided as he spelled Sid’s name to Mick over the phone, Mick was going to make sure that Isidore Hamlet Mercer-Hastings—a name that likely had Shakespeare himself rolling in his grave—could not enter any venue where Rated Riot was scheduled to perform.

It wasn’t quite as dramatic as a restraining order, Jungkook supposed. But blacklisting Sid from his gigs seemed like a good start.

Half an hour later, Jungkook had barricaded himself behind the curtains in his bunk. He was fully awake but he didn’t want you to see what he looked like.

Naturally, you had assumed he was sleeping and had no reason to talk to him anyway, so you kept yourself busy with an e-book in your bunk as the bus made its way to the airport.

Then, most unfortunately, your relative peace was disturbed when you received a text message from Nick Zhou. It was as if he could sense the terrible turmoil in your mind and your heart, and he wanted to add more fuel to the fire.

Things like that happened sometimes, you thought. Coincidences—unless you decided to treat them as signs.

Nick had sent you a picture of the perfectly green palm trees visible through a window. You zoomed in and assumed that he had taken the picture somewhere in Australia, where Reconnaissance were currently on tour.

In the text below, Nick said, “new album in progress. Would be nice to have you with us when we put it out!”

Anxious suddenly, you considered putting your phone away and just carrying on with your e-book. But your uncertainty was relentless—maybe if you replied to him, you’d gain a clearer understanding of what you should do.

You typed back, “hope you’re having fun! I’m still thinking about it.”

Then you exhaled and tossed your phone to the farthest corner of your bunk so as not to be bothered in case it vibrated again. Texting him back didn’t work. You felt just as tense as before.

You exhaled and attempted to keep reading, but silence was simply not meant for you today.

With the flight to Manchester only five hours away, Luna decided it was a good time to discuss with you what had happened in the changing room.

“Hey,” she whispered as she crept up to your bunk, moving stealthily and quietly as if she were a secret agent on a mission.

You looked up at her from your screen. “Hi.”

She wanted to talk to you, but now that she was doing it—or getting to it—she didn’t quite know how to proceed; or even where to begin, actually.

“So, um,” she said, sitting down on your bunk and taking her time to find a comfortable position. You put your tablet away and watched her. “I wanted to check up on you a little.”

You smirked. “Yeah? But not a lot?”

“Not yet.” She smiled at your teasing question. “You’re not critical, but I do think I have some cause for concern.”

You pulled yourself up and pushed a pillow behind your back to sit straighter. “What makes you think that?”

“Well, you and Jungkook seem to be avoiding each other.”

You regarded her for a minute until you reached the inevitable conclusion—you suspected it yesterday, and now Luna’s knowing gaze fully convinced you that it was true.

“You know about the bet,” you said.

Luna looked around. No one on the bus appeared to be listening. Nearly everyone that she could see either had headphones on, or had their curtains drawn.

She glanced back at you and settled her gaze on the corner of your dark brown blanket.

“Yes,” she admitted. “I found out about it at the same time as you, more or less. Jungkook had, um—he’d talked to Taehyung before he told you.”

“Ah,” you said. “Well, that’s—I’m glad we all know, then.”

Luna noted the imperceptible look in your eyes. She wasn’t sure if you’d meant what you said.

Really, you weren’t sure, either. On the one hand, you were relieved that you wouldn’t have to retell what had happened to your friend. You weren’t sure you’d manage.

But on the other hand, the fact that other people knew about the bet did not feel particularly comforting—because this was one of the situations that you’d been desperate to avoid: your relationship with Jungkook getting so out of hand that the people around you began to talk about it.

However, you had been thinking a lot in the last few days and you realised that learning about the bet had helped you find some relief, too.

There was something bothering you for weeks now, something that was off in your surroundings, and now you finally knew what it was. It felt like a crooked picture frame on the wall. Like a non-alphabetical arrangement of books on a shelf. Like a bet about your relationship.

And now that you knew, the world had realigned again. You would have been able to breathe easier if you weren’t so embarrassed that other members of your team also knew about it.

“Well, aside from that,” Luna went on, keeping a careful eye on any changes in your expression. “I talked to Jungkook today. And I’m not defending him—”

“If you say ‘but’ next,” you interrupted, “that will negate your point, you know.”

“However,” Luna said instead and you rolled your eyes. “I think the bet is only half the picture. I mean, it’s shit. He fucked up. But I think that he’s been with you because he really wanted to be. Not because of the bet.”

If you had shaken your head any more vigorously, it might have flown off. Luna was slightly annoyed by your adamant rejection of everything she was saying—which made it easier for her to tell you the news.

“He fought Sid,” she said.

You frowned. “So?”

“Knocked his tooth out, I think.”

Your frown turned into shock as your eyebrows shot up nearly all the way to your hairline. When Luna said that they fought, you obviously did not expect it to be a physical altercation.

“They fought?” you repeated.

“Yeah. Because Sid can’t keep his mouth shut,” she said. “Jungkook loathes the guy. I don’t know what sort of friendship they had before, but there’s none of that left. If I hadn’t walked in, I don’t know—I mean, he—he hates him.” Luna swallowed here, figuring that additional details might make it harder for her to make her point. “But more than that, it looked to me like Jungkook just hates himself. Now, what you want to do next, that’s up to you. I just wanted to tell you what I thought. I talked to him. He was miserable.”

“Well.” You swallowed. “He lost the bet.”

“Not about the bet. He has feelings for you. Real feelings.”

“How—”

“Don’t ask me how I know that,” she cut you off before you could ask exactly that. “These things you can just see. And it’s especially obvious in him. Because, look… Here are the facts. He had the option to keep the bet a secret from you. Or he could have gotten back together with you and won the bet. If not, he could have waited for this to pass, or until his friends told you. But he was the one who told you that he fucked up. That’s got to count for something. It’s okay if it’s not enough. But it—well, it sort of feels like a start. Because he finally got it through his thick head that this is what matters. You. He loves you.”

Your skin shivered—an automatic reaction to these words—but you scoffed. “And knocking out Sid’s tooth is a way to show it.”

Luna groaned and was about to protest, but you stopped her by shaking your head again.

“Luna—I mean—thank you, but… this is the same shit again,” you said. “The exact same shit that made us break up the first time. Except now, there’s so much more at stake. It’s no longer just about us.”

“Is it?” she asked. “Is it, really? I mean, I understand why you would think that, considering your—uh, your job. But it’s… Really, it’s just you. The two of you. As it’s always been.”

You sighed and pulled the sleeves of your turtleneck down until you could hide your fists in them. You kept your gaze on the blanket beneath you—undoubtedly disagreeing with her again—and Luna let out a soft, tired breath.

“I’m—whatever you do next, I’ll be on your side,” she said. “If you walk away, I walk away. It’s simple. I just think it’d do you two good to talk this out. When you’re ready. So that you would know what you’re walking away from.”

You were starting to shake your head again, but stopped abruptly, realising the futility of it. You weren’t actually disagreeing with Luna’s point, after all.

“It would be good,” you said. “But I don’t want to talk to him about this. This was a mistake from the very beginning.”

“So… what, then?” she asked, worried about the burden of even more unresolved feelings that you would have to carry around every day if you allowed this to linger. If this became another thing that you never talked to anyone about. “You think you can just go back to the way things were?”

“No,” you said. “Because I’m still very annoyed. But after that, then yeah. Ideally.”

Luna tried to conceal her skepticism, but it was evident in the way she sucked in her lips and nodded her head. “Okay.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Thanks for the optimism?”

She sighed and turned to face you again.

“I get it,” she said. “I understand why you don’t want to see him right now. But I also… kind of understand why he did what he did.”

Your eyebrows rose again. “Why he made the bet?”

“No,” she said, raising her index finger and closing her eyes to emphasise her point. “Not that. That I don’t understand. I meant the fight with Sid. Sid is a big reason why you’re in this situation and Jungkook had no other choice left. He got into that fight because he’s shit at choosing friends, but he loves you.”

You ran your tongue over your lips and looked back down at your blanket. “I don’t know which one of those things outweighs the other one.”

“Yeah, well, think about that,” she said. “Then talk to him.”

You were both aware that giving this advice was much easier than actually following it, and a silent minute passed without either of you looking at each other as you pondered the future.

“Nick texted me,” you said suddenly. You hadn’t realised how much his message weighed on you until you told her. “Just to check in. And, uh, to remind me of his—his offer.”

Luna did not like this, and she was glad you weren’t looking at her and didn’t see the expression on her face.

“What did you tell him?” she asked.

“I told him I’m still thinking about it.”

You felt Luna shifting her weight and fidgeting on the bunk next to you. She was uncomfortable, you could tell.

“You’re, uh… you’re really thinking about this, then?” she asked.

You threw your head back and rested it on the pillow. “I’m thinking about a lot these days.”

“Well, that’s—that’s good. Right?” she said, quietly hoping that your contemplations would eventually lead you to a decision that would cause you less suffering. She didn’t think leaving Rated Riot was that decision. You had made a family here. “Take your time with these things. Really think them through. Avoid everyone for a short while if that’s what you need.”

“Hmm. How can I avoid everyone, though?” you asked dryly. “If Jungkook got into a fight, I need to see him.”

“Ah.” Luna finally looked at you, feeling guilty somehow, as if she was the one who had punched him. “Yeah, that’s probably true. He, um—it’s not a disaster, but he did miss a couple of, uh—”

“Is he bleeding?” you asked, appreciating her effort to convey the situation without causing you alarm, but also without downplaying it.

“Well, not anymore,” she said. “At least, he wasn’t the last time I saw him. There is a, um—a black eye situation, though.”

You groaned and dropped your hands on the mattress in irritation.

“Fuck—you see? He’s doing it again. Leaving me no choice but to—oh, fuck it.” You slapped your hands on your knees and sat up straight. “He’ll have to wait until we arrive at the airport. I’m done jumping at the slightest sound he makes, manager or not.”

“I agree with that,” Luna said. “But I see that you don’t really mean it.”

You closed your eyes. “I have to mean it. I know it’s my job, and I know Jungkook never forced me into anything I didn’t consent to, but he just—this whole time, he acted like he was genuine when he was just doing what he always does. Playing along with Sid’s sick little games. Maybe he deserves to bleed a little for that.”

Luna was about to argue, but only nodded. She was very glad you were talking about this, even though you had dismissed everything she’d told you about Jungkook’s feelings.

She knew that you needed more time. You’d heard her. You just had to be in the right frame of mind to believe her.

She knew you’d get there, just as she knew Jungkook was not going to give up on you.

“Yeah,” Luna finally said. “He can wait. Do you... want to talk about it? About what he did?”

You looked murderous. “Absolutely not.”

She expected as much.

“Well, in that case,” she pulled her phone out, “you want to see something that Crowley did to my mum’s curtains? She took a video to show me.”

Your tension seemed to fade straight away. Luna’s troublemaker cat—named aptly after a Supernatural character with a redemption arc that Crowley, the cat, could only dream about—had never failed to ease your mind.

You needed some time alone. And you were very happy to be alone with her as she stretched out on the mattress next to you and played the video on her phone.

You caught glimpses of Jungkook and his heavy sunglasses on the way to your gate at the airport, but you didn’t have the time to check how bad he looked. The other Rated Riot members had already smacked him on the back of his head after they saw his band-aids, so you decided to wait until you could talk to him in private.

About an hour later, you spotted him going to the men’s room. You waited a few minutes and stood up, too.

The restroom was empty except for the two of you, and you quietly placed your carry-on bag on the ground next to the door. Jungkook hadn’t even noticed you enter.

“There you are,” you announced from the doorway.

Jungkook flinched and splashed himself as he washed his hands in front of the wall-sized mirror.

“You were—were you looking for me?” he asked. The automatic sink stopped and he moved his hands back under the faucet to get the water running again.

“I’ve been informed you have a black eye,” you said, coming closer. “I wanted to check the damage myself.”

The side of his face that was visible to you showed no signs of injury, but when you looked at his reflection in the mirror, you saw the red and purple bruises on the side of his face, concealed by a few persistent band-aids.

Jungkook swallowed and shook his hands several times to dry them. Then, he stepped back, allowing you to examine him. “Well, here I am.”

“Here you are,” you repeated. His gaze remained fixed on yours as you scanned his features. “Want to tell me what happened?”

“Not really,” he said. “Want to tell me if you’re leaving to work with Reconnaissance?”

“Not really.”

He pursed his lips. “Well, then. Can I ask—”

“No,” you said immediately. He stopped speaking and clenched his jaw.

You were contemplating if you should have taken him to the hospital before the flight. You were also thinking about what to do with his bruises tomorrow since he had a performance, and appearing on stage with a black eye did not seem particularly professional.

“Does it hurt?” you asked. “These band-aids—did you change them?”

“No,” he said. It wasn’t clear which question he was responding to, but his answer seemed to fit both.

“You need to change them,” you said. “And clean the wounds properly.”

“I’m not going to a hospital.”

You sighed. “Why not?”

“Because it’s not that bad,” he said.

You looked back at the band-aids on the side of his face. They remained on his skin through the sheer force of will. Cuts and bruises peeked from underneath the dried blood.

“It looks bad with band-aids on,” you said. “I can only imagine what it looks like without.”

“It’s fine,” he insisted. “Luna said so.”

You knew right away that this was impossible; Luna would have known better.

“She said no such thing,” you replied.

“Okay, maybe she didn’t,” he conceded with a quiet groan. “But I’m still not going to the hospital.”

The irony of the moment—and how you’d insisted that you were okay a few days ago, just like he was doing now—was completely lost on you. You felt exhausted.

“Why…” you started to say, then sighed as you brought your fingers over your closed eyes. “Why are you making me do this?”

“Do what?”

“Clean your self-destructive wounds.”

“They’re not self-destructive—”

“Really?” Your eyes shot open, ablaze with agitation. “So, getting punched by Sid was, what? A fight for dominance that you’d planned in advance?”

He cleared his throat with indignation and continued his previous statement, “and I’m not making you clean my wounds. I’m fine.”

“Sit down,” you said, turning to grab your carry-on bag. “You’re not fine.”

Awkwardly swaying in the same spot, Jungkook looked around. “Where do you want me to sit? We’re in a public bathroom.”

“Jesus, Jungkook!” you groaned irritably. You were too tired to think of every little detail, every action, and reaction. You just wanted to take a nap on the plane. “I don’t care. Sit on the floor. Or on the toilet.”

“Neither seems sterile…”

“Good thing you didn’t get punched in the ass, then.”

He huffed but still went into one of the cubicles, lowered the toilet lid with a scrunched nose and sat down on it.

He leaned over to hold the door open with his hand until you entered a few minutes later. Before either of you could grasp how small the space was now that you were in the closed cubicle, you took out the antiseptic spray from your amateur medical kit and grabbed a cotton pad. By that point, Jungkook was too worried about what you’d do to think about how close you were.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” he asked.

Concerned, he watched you pull a blue latex glove on one of your hands and spray the antiseptic into the air, aiming it at the floor to test it.

“No,” you admitted, taking a step towards him and stopping between his legs. With your gloved hand, you carefully peeled off the heavy band-aids from his face and tossed them into an empty plastic bag you’d brought for this specific purpose. “But neither did you when you picked a fight with Sid, so I think we’re even.”

He grimaced as the exposed lacerations on his skin immediately began to sting. “W-what makes you think I was the one who started that fight?”

“The fact that you won’t tell me what it was about,” you replied, bending your knees slightly to inspect his face. You were willing to help him look after his wounds, but changing the bandages was as far as you’d go—if he needed stitches, you’d drag him to the nearest emergency room.

“You know what it was about,” he mumbled, staring at the floor.

“I don’t.”

He didn’t want to say it. You knew he didn’t want to say it—that was why you were making him do it.

“It started about the bet,” he admitted finally. “But then he… said some things I didn’t like. Not that I liked what he said about the bet, either. But I got myself into that mess, so I—”

“What did he say?” you asked, interrupting his diversion.

You covered his left eye with a cotton pad to protect it, shook the bottle of antiseptic a few times, and sprayed it on the exposed wounds.

Jungkook winced as he felt the stinging pain grow sharper. He clutched the lid of the toilet seat, forgetting all about how he’d avoided touching it before.

“Just… some bullshit about you,” he said through clenched teeth.

Surprised, you pulled back to look at him. “He said something about me?”

“Yeah. So I socked him in the cheek.”

You watched him for a quiet minute.

Honestly, if Sid had said something about you, you probably would have punched him yourself if Jungkook hadn’t. But the way Jungkook phrased this—and this whole situation, in general—was so ridiculous that you had to bite the inside of your cheek to maintain a straight face.

“In the mouth,” you corrected. “Or so I hear.”

Jungkook couldn’t subdue the smile on his lips at the amusement that you tried very hard to hide. So, you knew about Sid’s tooth then.

“That was after he wouldn’t stop talking,” he said.

“Ah. Well,” you returned to work and gently patted his cheek with the cotton pad to remove the excess antiseptic, “I appreciate you defending my honour.”

“You don’t sound like it.”

You scoffed. “What do you want me to do? Jump on your white horse and ride off into the sunset with you?”

The light-hearted tone of your voice suddenly amplified your close proximity—he felt his legs tremble slightly as you stood between them to reach his face better. He wanted to reach out and wrap himself around you, to thank you, and to apologise again.

Instead, he cleared his throat and lowered his gaze.

“Well, that’d be nice,” he muttered. Then, added louder, “or, at the very least, you could stop burning me.”

“I’m disinfecting,” you said as you leaned in again, checking if the spray had absorbed into his bruises yet. His breath caught in his throat. You added, “I think.”

Jungkook didn’t think he’d ever felt a longing so intense that it could overshadow all physical pain.

“You think,” he repeated breathlessly. “Th—that’s reassuring.”

“It’s what my mum used to use when my brother and I would get cuts or scratches, and things like that,” you explained defensively. “Of course, this is hardly a scratch in your case, but I have nothing better to offer.”

He didn’t mean to come across as accusatory. He didn’t know what he was saying at all. You still smelled like apples. He was afraid he would pass out.

“This is fine,” he said.

He knew that you were already doing more than your job description entailed and your personal relationship permitted, and he was grateful for it. He hadn’t meant to cause you any additional problems, and he wanted to inform you of the steps he’d taken to fix the ones he’d already caused.

He waited until you had finished searching through your medical kit before speaking again.

“I, um—I banned Sid from Rated Riot shows,” he said.

You turned to look at him so quickly that a tired muscle in your neck spasmed in protest. “What?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Mick will take care of it if he shows up.”

“Mick—you banned Sid?”

“I banned Sid,” he repeated slowly, giving you a minute to process the news. “It’s done. I don’t—I never should have brought him to Europe with me.”

You straightened and attempted to compose yourself, but your mind was suddenly bombarding you with question marks and software errors every time you tried to form a coherent thought.

“Well, that’s—that’s right,” you finally said, clearing your throat. “And it’s about time you realised that.”

You didn’t know what else to say. Congratulating him right now, considering the repercussions of his last confrontation with Sid, seemed in poor taste.

Not to mention, you were a little confounded. After your last argument outside the bus, you’d expected a lot of drunk nights and a lot of new mayhem that you would have to put back in order. You weren’t expecting mature decisions.

Jungkook didn’t notice the utter shock in your voice, however, because his pulse tried to deafen him with a dreadful paranoia, telling him that this was too little and too late.

Notenough-notenough-notenough, the beat of his heart echoed in his ears.

“I know,” Jungkook said, louder than he’d intended. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

You pulled out a new cotton pad and mumbled something under your breath.

Jungkook gazed up at you as you hovered over him with your medical kit. “Can I—can I ask you something, though?”

You gently wiped the side of his temple where the antiseptic had dripped, all while trying to calm down the chaos in your mind. “What?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about Reconnaissance?”

There was a long pause as you returned to your kit—more for the purpose of giving yourself some time to think rather than out of necessity.

“I don’t know,” you finally said. “I wasn’t seriously considering it, and it never came up in a casual conversation.”

“We spent three days in Amsterdam, just the two of us,” he said. “How could it not come up?”

You gave him a look. “Really? You think you can ask me that when you knew—and participated—in the bet for weeks before telling me about it?”

Jungkook looked down. “It wasn’t weeks...”

“Well, fantastic.”

Unsettled by your sarcasm, he added, “and I told you, eventually.”

“No, I actually guessed it before you told me,” you said with one hand on your hip as you gazed at the restroom wall behind him, deep in thought. “I told you that you were only acting like that because of some external force. And you really were doing it to win a—”

“No.” He shook his head so fiercely that you almost worried he’d injure himself more. “The bet gave me a push. But I wanted you all along, and—”

“No,” you disagreed, turning away to throw the used cotton pads into the plastic bag. “You—just—just don’t.”

He already knew that this would be the wrong thing to say before he even said it. He simply couldn’t control himself—but he tried to now.

“I’m just—I’m trying to say that this hurt me, too,” he said slowly. “You’re—you might leave to work with a different band. A-and I was the only one who didn’t know about that.”

“I—”

“I know,” he continued louder, “that this is not the same as what I did. It’s not even close. But I still—I feel like this should have been something you talked to me about.”

You sighed and grabbed a glass bottle of iodine-based ointment from your bag. “It probably was.”

“Are you really considering it?” he asked. “Leaving, I mean.”

So much had changed since you told Maggie and Luna that you’d stay, and repeated the same to Yoongi and Namjoon.

All you could say to Jungkook now was a dejected, “I don’t know.”

The tight grip of pain around his chest did not ease, but he didn’t expect it to. Not yet, at least.

“I’m truly sorry,” he said, lifting his gaze. Both of you quickly averted your eyes as if the eye contact burnt. “For this and… for everything.”

You nodded in acknowledgement of the apology but did not reply to it.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Reconnaissance,” you said instead. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”

He nodded back and you continued to work in silence. You were glad that your current task required your full attention, so you did not have to linger on how wounded he looked—not just physically, but somehow intrinsically, too. If you glanced at him, all the tears and cuts and bruises on his heart would have been as visible as they were on his face.

You applied the ointment to his temple now that the antiseptic had dried—and Jungkook clenched his teeth again, keeping the painful hiss contained. The ointment was probably excessive, and it might dye his skin an odd shade of purple, but you didn’t know what else to do.

When you looked closer, his cuts didn’t appear deep enough to require stitches, so all you could do at the moment was ensure they didn’t become infected – and this questionable procedure should have accomplished that.

You pressed some gauze to the more severe wounds and bandaged them—as much as you could. You used smaller band-aids for the less serious cuts. Then, you stepped back to look.

This would need work. He looked like he slammed the side of his head into a wall and a toddler had attempted to provide first aid.

“This should hold for now before I come up with something else,” you said. “I have to go. I’ll need to find a way to incorporate this,” you gestured around his face, “into your look for tomorrow’s show.”

You turned to push the cubicle door open, then stopped short when you felt his cold, tentative fingers wrap around your wrist.

“Wait,” he said, releasing your hand as soon as he noticed you looking down at his grip. “Just… just tell me what’s going to happen.”

“With your face?” you asked with a confused frown. “It’s going to hurt for a while probably, but it—”

“With us,” he cut you off.

You looked away, maintaining your posture even as your heart refused to listen to your mind and proceeded to pound furiously in your chest.

“There’s no ‘us’,” you said.

“You can’t say that.” He stood up and suddenly reduced the empty space between you in the cubicle. “Not after everything that happened.”

‘Everything that happened’ seemed to have a bitter flavour—he could see the distaste on your face as your tongue prodded your cheek.

“It was obviously a mistake,” you said.

You remembered it all, you knew what it meant. But you didn’t want to trust any of the moments in your memory.

Jungkook could taste your bitterness in his own mouth.

You added ruthlessly, “and it’s over.”

“What’s over?” he asked. He tried to place a hand on his hip, but his trembling fingers slid down his hoodie and his hand dropped to his side.

“Whatever this is,” you said, and each of your following words felt like a new scratch deep inside of him. “Whatever you were doing to win your bet, and whatever I was stupidly playing along with.”

There was nothing but a few breaths separating the two of you in this cubicle, yet you may as well have been in a different orbit entirely. Desperate, Jungkook raised his hands to the back of his head and intertwined his fingers.

“I wasn’t—it wasn’t because of the bet,” he protested—not for the first time. With one more shake of your head, you turned around and pushed the door of the cubicle open. “Look, wait! I’m sorr—”

“It’s over, Jungkook,” you said, pausing halfway. “Stop.”

“How can it—I don’t—just—just tell me this one thing, okay? Before you go,” he pleaded, following you out of the cubicle and watching you toss your medical kit into your carry-on.

There was a hint of sadness in your eyes when you looked up. “What?”

“If there was no bet, wou—would you have agreed to be with me again?”

Your pulse reverberated in your mind, shrieking and piercing, as you shook your head and turned away.

“If there was no bet,” you said, “you wouldn’t have even wanted to be with me again.”

For a minute, you both watched the floor in thick, pain-coated silence. It consumed you, this otherworldly quietness—your thoughts stilled, even your bodies seemed to pause and wait.

That wasn’t true, Jungkook wanted to say—and should have said. But he was so tired of saying things and having to defend them, to prove he meant them.

He wondered if there was anything he could say to you from this point on that you would believe. He loved you so much—he’s never loved anyone else, the very idea of it did not seem possible—yet he made you think he wasn’t serious.

He watched you leave—again—and felt his chest shrink to accommodate the slowing of his heartbeat—again, again—as he struggled to inhale, let alone open his mouth—again, again, again—realising, slowly, that there might not be enough words in existence to fix this.

“I love you,” he still tried, but the restroom door had already closed and he wasn’t sure if you’d heard him. Or if it made a difference if you did.

There was something very ironic about the plans you had for the rest of the day once the plane landed in Manchester.

The concert was originally scheduled for tomorrow, but the venue had suffered a flood from a broken pipe a few nights ago, causing everything that the organisers had promised you to be ruined. They tried to fix it, but they needed some more time. You found out on the plane that the concert would have to be postponed until the day after tomorrow.

To make matters worse, Ren, the bassist of Poison Tongue—Rated Riot’s opening act—had broken his foot at the airport (you were afraid to ask how) and was hospitalised, rendering the band incapable of performing. You needed to find a replacement on extremely short notice.

This was a crisis, but only another one of many. You hadn’t slept at all on the plane, but despite your pounding headache, you were grateful for a chance to keep busy, and you had a precise plan of action.

You would find the venue staff and direct them to Seokjin—after checking if Seokjin was even here.

Next, you would make sure the equipment arrived safely and unpacking it at the damaged venue did not pose any risk to your team.

After that, you would seek Maggie’s help with an online ad for a new opening act.

Then, you would call the label and sweet-talk them before the inevitable black-eye pictures.

You would also devise a plan to handle the aforementioned black eye, which, hopefully, will have improved by the time of the concert.

And, most importantly, you would avoid Jungkook.

Really, the plan was almost foolproof. You figured your to-do list would continue to expand, even after you completed certain tasks, so you essentially had no chance of being left alone with your thoughts or accidentally running into him.

But then, on your way out of the band’s dressing room, you noticed that your surroundings were spinning more than usual. It happened occasionally, this abrupt lightheadedness after you stood up too quickly. But this time, it persisted even after you crossed the corridor.

You tried to tell yourself that this wasn’t anything new, you were just overwhelmed. This had to be the stress—you hadn’t slept and you had so much to do that it was normal to feel dizzy.

You kept walking. Until you had to trace your hand along the patterns of the wallpaper on the wall to stay steady. Until the edges of your vision blurred. Until the wet floorboards beneath your feet wobbled. Until the room grew dark.

You thought you could feel yourself leaning against the wall and slowly lowering your body to the floor. You thought you could feel the damp floor under your fingertips. You thought you could hear someone’s voice in the distance.

For a split moment before you collapsed, it occurred to you that you were really very tired. And that Jungkook had warned you about having another fainting spell if you weren’t careful.

But then your heart rate restricted the flow of blood to your brain, and there was not a single conscious thought left in your vacant mind.

As it happened sometimes—coincidences, unless you treated them as signs—Jungkook was the one who found you.

chapter title credits: sleep token, “blood sport”

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